UNIT.  Of  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


••A  MELODY  SUCH  AS  SETS  THE  HEART  BEATING." 

"Dorothy's  Triumph." 


DOROTHY'S 
TRIUMPH 


BY 

EVELYN  RAYMOND 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
RUDOLF  MENCL 


NEW  YORK 

A.  L.  CHATTERTON    CO, 


Copyright  1911 
A  L.  CHATTERTON  CO. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEK  PAGE 

I    ON  THE  TRAIN 9 

II    AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN 28 

III  DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG  ....     49 

IV  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP 66 

V  THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS     .....    84 

VI    A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT 104 

VII    UNWELCOME  VISITORS 122 

VIII    THE  JOURNEY  HOME 143 

IX    THE  FIRST  LESSON 158 

X    HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT 174 

XI    CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU 192 

XII    MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER 207 

XIII  IN  THE  METROPOLIS 222 

XIV  THE  STORM 237 

XV    DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 251 


2132272 


DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

CHAPTER  I 

ON   THE   TRAIN 

"  MARYLAND,  my  Maryland !  "  dreamily  hummed 
Dorothy  Calvert. 

"  Not  only  your  Maryland,  but  mine,"  was  the 
resolute  response  of  the  boy  beside  her. 

Dorothy  turned  on  him  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  Jim  Barlow,  I  thought  nothing  could 
shake  your  allegiance  to  old  New  York  state ;  you've 
told  me  so  yourself  dozens  of  times,  and — " 

"  I  know,  Dorothy ;  I've  thought  so  myself,  but 
since  my  visit  to  old  Bellvieu,  and  our  trip  on  the 
houseboat,  I've  —  I've  sort  o'  changed  my  mind." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  you're  coming  to  live  with 
Aunt  Betty  and  I  again,  Jim?  Oh,  you  just  can't 
mean  that !  Why,  we'd  be  so  delighted ! " 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  just  that,"  responded  Jim, 
rather  glumly — "in  fact,  I  don't  know  just  what 
I  mean  myself,  except  I  feel  like  I  must  be  always 
near  you  and  Mrs.  Calvert." 

"  Say  Aunt  Betty,  Jim." 

"  Well,  Aunt  Betty." 

9 


10  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  You  know  she  is  an  aunt  to  you,  in  the  matter 
of  affection,  if  not  by  blood." 

"  I  do  know  that,  and  I  appreciate  all  she  did 
for  me  before  she  got  well  enough  acquainted  with 
you  to  believe  she  wanted  you  to  live  with  her  for- 
ever." 

"  Say,  Jim,  dear,  often  when  I  ponder  over  my 
life  it  seems  like  some  brilliant  dream.  Just  think 
of  being  left  a  squalling  baby  for  Mrs.  Calvert,  my 
great-aunt,  to  take  care  of,  then  sent  to  Mother 
Martha  and  Father  John,  because  Aunt  Betty  felt 
that  she  should  be  free  from  the  care  of  raising  a 
troublesome  child.  Then,  after  I've  grown  into  a 
isizable  girl,  in  perfect  ignorance  as  to  my  real  par- 
entage, Aunt  Betty  meets  and  likes  me,  and  is  anx- 
ious to  get  me  back  again.  Then  Judge  Brecken- 
ridge  and  others  take  a  hand  in  the  matter  of 
hunting  up  my  real  name  and  pedigree,  with  the 
result  that  Aunt  Betty  finally  owns  up  to  my  being 
her  kith  and  kin,  and  receives  me  with  open  arms 
at  Deerhurst.  Since  then,  I,  Dorothy  Elisabeth 
Somerset-Calvert,  F.  F.  V.,  etc.,  etc.,  changed  from 
near-poverty  to  at  least  a  comfortable  living,  with 
all  my  heart  could  desire  and  more,  have  had  one 
continuous  good  time.  Yes,  Jim,  it  is  too  strange 
and  too  good  to  be  true." 


ON  THE  TRAIN  II 

"  But  it  is  true,"  protested  the  boy  — "  true  as 
gospel,  Dorothy.  You  are  one  of  the  finest  little 
ladies  in  the  land  and  no  one  will  ever  dispute  it." 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  fishing  for  compliments." 

"Well,  you  got  'em  just  the  same,  didn't  you? 
And  you  deserve  'em." 

The  train  on  which  Dorothy  and  Jim,  together 
with  Ephraim,  Aunt  Betty's  colored  man,  were  rid- 
ing, was  already  speeding  through  the  broad  vales 
of  Maryland,  every  moment  bringing  it  nearer  the 
city  of  Baltimore  and  Old  Bellvieu,  the  ancestral 
home  of  the  Calverts,  where  Mrs.  Elisabeth  Cecil 
Somerset-Calvert,  familiarly  termed,  "  Aunt  Betty," 
would  be  awaiting  them. 

Since  being  "  taken  into  the  fold  "  by  Aunt  Betty, 
after  years  of  living  with  Mother  Martha  and  Fa- 
ther John,  to  whom  she  had  sent  the  child  as  a 
nameless  foundling,  Dorothy  had,  indeed,  been  a 
happy  girl,  as  her  experiences  related  in  the  previ- 
ous volumes  of  this  series,  "  House  Party,"  "  In 
California,"  "On  a  Ranch,"  "House  Boat,"  and 
"  At  Oak  Knowe,"  will  attest. 

Just  now  she  was  returning  from  the  Canadian 
school  of  Oak  Knowe,  where  she  had  spent  a  happy 
winter.  Mrs.  Calvert  had  been  unable  to  meet  her 
in  the  Dominion,,  as  she  had  intended,  but  had  sent 


12  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Jim  and  Ephraim,  the  latter  insisting  that  he  was 
needed  to  help  care  for  his  little  mistress.  Soon 
after  the  commencement  exercises  were  over  the 
trio  had  left  for  Dorothy's  home. 

And  such  a  commencement  as  it  had  been! 
Dorothy  could  still  hear  ringing  in  her  ears  the 
rather  solemn,  deep-toned  words  of  the  Bishop  who 
conferred  the  diplomas  and  prizes,  as  he  had  said : 

"  To  Miss  Dorothy  Calvert  for  uniform  courtesy." 
Then  again :  "  To  Miss  Dorothy  Calvert,  for  ad- 
vancement in  music." 

"  The  dear  old  Bishop !  "  she  cried,  aloud,  as  she 
thought  again  of  the  good  times  she  had  left  behind 
her. 

"  '  The  dear  old  Bishop  '  ?  "  Jim  repeated,  a  blank 
expression  on  his  face.  "  And  who,  please,  is  the 
dear  old  Bishop  ?  " 

"  I'd  forgotten  you  did  not  meet  him,  Jim.  He's 
the  head  director  of  the  school  at  Oak  Knowe,  and 
one  of  the  very  dearest  of  men.  I  shall  never  for- 
get my  first  impression  of  him  —  a  venerable  man, 
with  a  queer-shaped  cap  on  his  head,  and  wearing 
knee  breeches  and  gaiters,  much  as  our  old  Colonial 
statesmen  were  wont  to  do.  '  So  this  is  my  old 
friend,  Betty  Calvert's  child,  is  it  ?  '  he  said.  Doro- 
thy imitated  the  bass  tones  of  a  man  with  such  pre- 


ON  THE  TRAIN  13 

cision  that  Jim  smiled  in  spite  of  himself.  '  Well, 
well !  You're  as  like  her  as  possible  —  yet  only  her 
great-niece.  Ha !  Hum ! '  etc.,  etc.  Then  he  put 
his  arm  around  me  and  drew  me  to  his  side,  and, 
Jim,  I  can't  tell  you  how  comfortable  I  felt,  for  I 
was  inclined  to  be  homesick,  'way  up  there  so  far 
from  Aunt  Betty.  But  he  cured  me  of  it,  and  asked 
Miss  Muriel  Tross-Kingdon  to  care  for  me." 

**  Miss  Muriel  Tross-Kingdon  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes — the  Lady  Principal.  You  met  her, 
Jim.  You  surely  remember  her  kind  greeting  the 
night  the  prizes  and  diplomas  were  conferred.  She 
was  very  courteous  to  you,  I  thought,  considering 
the  fact  that  she  is  so  haughty  and  dignified." 

"  Don't  believe  I'd  like  to  go  to  a  girls'  school," 
said  Jim. 

"  Why,  of  course,  you  wouldn't,  silly  —  being  a. 
boy." 

"  But  I  mean  if  I  was  a  girl." 

"Why?" 

"  Oh,  the  life  there  is  too  dull." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  life  at  a  girls'  school, 
Jim?" 

"  Well,  I've  heard  a  few  things.  I  tell  you,  there 
must  be  plenty  of  athletics  to  make  school  or  college 
life  interesting." 


14  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Athletics  ?  My  dear  boy,  didn't  you  see  the 
big  gym  at  Oak  Knowe  ?  Not  a  day  passed  but  we 
girls  performed  our  little  feats  on  rings  and  bars, 
and  as  for  games  in  the  open  air,  Oak  Knowe 
abounds  with  them.  Look  at  me!  Did  you  ever 
see  a  more  rugged  picture  of  health  ?  " 

"  You  seem  to  be  in  good  condition,  all  right," 
Jim  confessed. 

" Seem  to  be ?    I  am"  corrected  Dorothy. 

"  Well,  just  as  you  say.  I  won't  argue  the  point. 
I'm  very  glad  to  know  you've  become  interested  in 
athletics.  That's  one  good  thing  Miss  Muriel  Tross- 
Kingdon  has  done  for  you,  anyway." 

"  Jim,  I  don't  like  your  tone.  Do  you  mean  to 
insinuate  that  otherwise  my  course  at  Oak  Knowe 
has  been  a  failure?" 

"  No,  no,  Dorothy ;  you  misunderstood  me. 
You've  benefited  greatly,  no  doubt  —  at  least,  you've 
upheld  the  honor  of  the  United  States  in  a  school 
almost  filled  with  English  girls.  And  that's  some- 
thing to  be  proud  of." 

"  Not  all  were  English,  Jim.  Of  course,  Gwen- 
dolyn Borst-Kennard  and  her  chum,  Laura  Gris- 
wold,  were  members  of  the  peerage.  But  the 
majority  of  the  girls  were  just  everyday  folks  like 
you  and  I  have  been  used  to  associating  with  all  our 


ON  THE  TRAIN  15 

lives.  Even  Millikins-Pillikins  was  more  like  an 
American  than  an  English  girl." 

"  '  Millikins-Pillikins  ' !  "  sniffed  Jim.  "  What  a 
name  to  burden  a  girl  with !  " 

"  Oh,  that's  only  a  nickname ;  her  real  name  is 
Grace  Adelaide  Victoria  Tross-Kingdon." 

"  Worse  and  more  of  it !  " 

"  Jim !  "  she  protested  sternly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Dorothy  —  no  offense  meant. 
Millikins-Pillikins  is  related  to  Miss  Muriel  Tross- 
Kingdon,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Well,  it  may  be  all  right,"  sighed  the  thoroughly 
practical  Jim,  "  but  this  putting  a  hyphen  between 
your  last  two  names  looks  to  me  like  a  play  for 
notoriety." 

Dorothy's  eyes  flashed  fire  as  she  turned  a  swift 
gaze  upon  him. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Jim  Barlow,  we've  been  fast 
friends  for  years,  and  I  don't  want  to  have  a  falling 
out,  but  you  shall  not  slander  my  friends.  And 
please  remember,  sir,  that  the  last  two  words  in 
my  name  are  connected  by  a  hyphen,  then  see  if 
you  can't  bridle  your  tongue  a  while." 

Dorothy,  plainly  displeased,  turned  and  looked 
out  of  the  car  window.  But  she  did  not  see  the 


16  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

green  fields,  or  the  cool-looking  patches  of  wood- 
land that  were  flashing  past;  she  was  wondering  if 
she  had  spoken  hastily  to  her  boy  chum,  and 
whether  he  would  resent  her  tone. 

But  Jim,  after  a  moment's  silence,  became  duly 
humble. 

"I  —  I'm  very  sorry  I  said  that,  Dorothy,"  he 
began,  slowly.  "I  —  I'm  sure  I'd  forgotten  the 
hyphen  in  your  own  name.  I  was  just  thinking  of 
those  English  girls.  I'm  positive  that  when  they 
met  you  they  felt  themselves  far  above  you,  and  it 
just  makes  my  American  blood  boil  —  that's  all !  " 

Dorothy  turned  in  time  to  catch  a  suspicious 
moisture  in  Jim's  eyes,  and  the  warm-hearted  girl 
immediately  upbraided  herself  for  speaking  as  she 
had. 

"  You're  true  blue,  Jim !  I  might  have  known 
how  you  meant  it,  and  that  you  wouldn't  willingly 
slander  my  friends.  And,  just  to  show  you  that 
I  believe  in  telling  the  truth,  I'll  admit  that  Gwen- 
dolyn was  a  hateful  little  spitfire  when  I  first  en- 
tered the  school.  But  finally  she  grew  to  know 
that  in  the  many  attributes  which  contribute  to  our 
happiness  there  were  girls  in  the  world  just  as  well 
off  as  she.  Gradually  she  came  around,  until,  at 
the  end,  she  was  one  of  my  warmest  friends." 


OAT  THE  TRAIN  17 

Dorothy  went  on  to  relate  how  she  had  saved 
Gwendolyn  from  drowning,  and  how,  in  turn,  the 
English  girl  had  saved  Dorothy  from  a  terrible  slide 
to  death  down  an  icy  incline. 

"  Well,  that  wasn't  bad  of  her/'  admitted  Jim. 
"  But  she  couldn't  very  well  stand  by  and  see  you 
perish  —  anyway,  you  had  saved  her  life,  and  she 
felt  duty  bound  to  return  the  compliment." 

"  Please  believe,  Jim,  that  she  did  it  out  of  the 
fullness  of  her  heart/' 

"  Well,  if  you  say  so,"  the  boy  returned,  reluc- 
tantly. 

Both  looked  up  at  this  juncture  to  find  Ephraim 
standing  in  the  aisle.  The  eyes  of  the  old  colored 
man  contained  a  look  of  unbounded  delight,  and  it 
was  not  difficult  to  see  that  his  pleasure  was  caused 
by  the  anticipated  return,  within  the  next  few  hours, 
to  Old  Bellvieu  and  Mrs.  Calvert. 

"  Well,  Ephy,"  said  Dorothy,  "  soon  we'll  see 
Aunt  Betty  again.  And  just  think  —  I've  been 
away  for  nine  long  months !  " 

"  My,  Miss  Betty'll  suttin'Iy  be  glad  tub.  see  yo' 
once  moah,  'case  she  am  gittin'  tuh  a  point  now 
where  yo'  comp'ny  means  er  pow'ful  lot  tuh  her. 
Axin'  yo'  pawdon,  HI'  missy,  fo'  mentionin'  de  sub- 
jeck,  but  our  Miss  Betty  ain't  de  woman  she  were 


i8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

feefor'  yo*  went  away  las'  fall.  No,  indeedy !  Dar's' 
sumpthin'  worry  in'  her,  en  I  hain't  nebber  been  able 
tuh  fin'  out  w'at  hit  is.  But  I  reckon  hit's  some 
trouble  'bout  de  ole  place." 

"  I'll  just  bet  that's  it,"  said  Jim.  "  You  remem- 
ber we  discussed  that  last  summer  just  before  we 
went  sailing  on  the  houseboat,  Dorothy  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  girl,  a  sad  note  creeping  into  her 
voice.  "  Something  or  somebody  had  failed,  and 
Aunt  Betty's  money  was  involved  in  some  way.  I 
remember  we  feared  she  would  have  to  sell  Bell- 
vieu,  but  gradually  the  matter  blew  over,  and  when 
I  left  home  for  Oak  Knowe  I  had  heard  nothing 
of  it  for  some  time.  The  city  of  Baltimore  has 
long  coveted  Bellvieu,  you  know,  as  well  as  certain 
private  firms  or  individuals.  The  old  place  is 
wanted  for  some  new  and  modern  addition  I  sup- 
pose, and  they  hope  eventually  to  entice  Aunt  Betty 
into  letting  it  go.  Oh,  I  do  wish  the  train  would 
hurry!  I'm  so  anxious  to  take  the  dear  old  lady 
in  my  arms  and  comfort  her  that  I  can  scarcely  con- 
tain myself.  Don't  you  think,  Jim,  there  will  be 
some  way  to  save  her  all  this  worry  ?  " 

• 

"  We  can  try,"  answered  the  boy,  gravely.  The 
way  he  pursed  up  his  lips,  however,  told  Dorothy 
that  he  realized  of  what  little  assistance  a  boy  and 


ON  THE  TRAIN  19 

girl  would  be  in  a  matter  involving  many  thousands 
of  dollars.  "  Let's  wait  and  see.  Perhaps  there  is 
nothing  to  worry  over  after  all." 

"  Lor'  bress  yo',  chile  —  dem's  de  cheerfulest 
wo'ds  I  eber  heered  yo'  speak.  An'  pray  God  yo' 
may  be  right!  De  good  Lord  knows  I  hates  tuh 
see  my  Miss  Betty  a-worryin'  en  a-triflin'  her  life 
erway,  w'en  she'd  oughter  be  made  comf'table  en 
happy  in  her  las'  days.  It  hain't  accordin'  tuh  de 
Scriptur',  chillen  —  it  hain't  accordin'  tuh  de  Scrip- 
tur'." 

And  with  a  sad  shake  of  his  head  the  faithful 
old  darkey  moved  away.  A  moment  later  they 
heard  the  door  slam  and  knew  that  he  had  gone  to 
the  colored  folks'  compartment  in  the  car  ahead. 

"  Ephy  is  loyalty  personified,"  said  Dorothy. 
"  His  skin  is  black  as  ink,  but  his  heart  is  as  white 
as  the  driven  snow." 

The  boy  did  not  answer.  He  seemed  lost  in 
thought,  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  passing  landscape. 
Dorothy,  too,  looked  out  of  the  window  again,  a 
feeling  of  satisfaction  possessing  her  as  she  realized 
that  she  was  again  in  her  beloved  South. 

On  every  hand  were  vast  cotton  fields,  the  green 
plants  well  above  ground,  and  flourishing  on  ac- 
count of  the  recent  rains.  Villages  and  hamlets 


20  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

flashed  by,  as  the  limited  took  its  onward  way  to- 
ward the  great  Maryland  city  which  Dorothy  Cal- 
vert  called  her  home. 

"  Oh,  Jim,  see ! "  the  girl  cried,  suddenly,  grip- 
ping her  companion's  arm,  and  pointing  out  of  the 
window.  "  There  is  the  old  Randolph  plantation. 
We  can't  be  more  than  an  hour's  ride  from  Balti- 
more. Hurrah !  I'm  so  glad !  " 

"  Looks  like  a  '  befor'  de  war '  place,"  Jim  re- 
turned, as  he  viewed  the  rickety  condition  of  what 
had  once  been  one  of  Maryland's  finest  country 
mansions. 

"  Yes ;  the  house  was  built  long  before  the  war. 
It  was  owned  by  a  branch  of  the  famous  Ran- 
dolphs, of  Virginia,  of  whom  you  have  heard  and 
read.  Aunt  Betty  told  me  the  story  one  night,  years 
ago.  I  shall  never  forget  it.  There  was  a  serious 
break  in  the  family  and  William  Randolph  moved 
his  wife  and  babies  away  from  Virginia,  vowing  he 
would  never  again  set  foot  in  that  state.  And  he 
kept  his  word.  He  settled  on  this  old  plantation, 
remodeling  the  house,  and  adding  to  it,  until  he 
had  one  of  the  most  magnificent  mansions  in  the 
South.  Aunt  Betty  frequently  visited  his  family 
when  a  young  girl.  That  was  many  years  before 
the  Civil  War.  When  the  war  finally  broke  out, 


ON  THE  TRAIN  21 

William  Randolph  had  two  sons  old  enough  to  fight, 
so  sent  them  to  help  swell  the  ranks  of  the  Con- 
federate Army.  One  was  killed  in  battle.  The 
other  was  with  Lee  at  Appomattox,  and  came  home 
to  settle  down.  He  finally  married,  and  was  living 
on  the  old  plantation  up  to  ten  years  ago,  when  he 
died." 

"  What  became  of  the  father  ?  "  queried  the  inter- 
ested Jim. 

"  Oh,  he  died  soon  after  the  war,  without  ever 
seeing  his  brothers  in  Virginia,  they  say.  The  son, 
Harry  Randolph,  being  of  a  sunny  disposition, 
though,  finally  resolved  to  let  bygones  be  bygones, 
and  some  years  after  his  father's  death,  he  went  to 
see  his  relatives  in  the  other  state,  where  he  was  re- 
ceived with  open  arms.  How  terrible  it  must  be 
to  have  a  family  feud,  Jim !  " 

"  Terrible,"  nodded  the  boy. 

"  Just  think  how  I'd  feel  if  I  were  to  get  mad 
at  Aunt  Betty  and  go  to  Virginia,  or  New  York  to 
stay,  never  to  see  my  dear  old  auntie  again  on  this 
earth.  Humph !  Catch  me  doing  a  thing  like  that  ? 
Well,  I  reckon  not  —  mo  matter  how  great  the 
provocation ! " 

Jim  smiled. 

"  Not  much  danger  of  your  having  to  do  a»y- 


22  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

thing  like  that,"  he  replied.  "  Aunt  Betty  loves  you 
too  much,  and  even  if  you  did,  you  could  go  back 
to  Mother  Martha  and  Father  John." 

"  Yes ;  I  could,  that's  true.  But  life  would  never 
seem  the  same,  after  finding  Aunt  Betty,  and  being 
taken  to  her  heart  as  I  have.  But  let's  not  talk 
of  such  morbid  things.  Let  us,  rather,  plan  what 
we  shall  do  for  a  good  time  this  summer." 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  boy.  "Reckon  I'll  be 
having  a  good  time  studying  'lectricity.  There's 
work  ahead  of  me,  and  I  don't  dare  allow  myself 
to  forget  it." 

"  But,  Jim,  you  are  going  home  with  me  for  a 
vacation.  All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull 
boy,  or,  at  least,  that's  what  I've  always  been  taught 
to  believe." 

"  I  know,  Dorothy ;  but  I've  got  a  living  to  make." 
The  serious  note  in  Jim's  voice  made  Dorothy  turn 
in  some  surprise. 

"  Why,  Jim  Barlow,  how  you  talk !  You're  not 
old  enough  to  strike  out  for  yourself  yet."  A  note 
of  authority  crept  unconsciously  into  Dorothy's 
tones. 

"  Yes;  I  am.  Lots  of  boys  younger  than  I  have 
gone  out  to  wrestle  with  the  world  for  a  livelihood, 
and  I  reckon  I  can  do  the  same." 


ON  THE  TRAIN  23 

"  But  Dr.  Sterling  won't  let  you,  I'm  sure." 

"  Humph !  A  lot  Dr.  Sterling  has  to  say  about 
that!" 

"  But  you  would  surely  regard  his  advice  as 
worth  something?" 

"  Yes ;  a  great  deal.  His  advice  is  for  me  to 
learn  electricity  —  to  learn  it  thoroughly  from  the 
bottom  up.  To  do  that  I  shall  have  to  serve  as  an 
apprentice  for  a  number  of  years.  The  pay  is  not 
great,  but  enough  to  live  on.  I've  made  up  my 
mind,  Dorothy,  so  don't  try  to  turn  me  from  my 
purpose." 

Dorothy  Calvert  looked  with  pride  on  this  manly 
young  fellow  at  her  side,  as  she  recalled  her  first 
meeting  with  him  some  years  before.  At  that  time 
she  had  been  living  with  Mother  Martha  and  Fa- 
ther John  on  the  Hudson  near  Newburgh.  Jim, 
the  "  bound  boy,"  had  been  Mrs.  Calvert's  protege, 
and  had  finally  worked  his  way  into  the  regard  of 
his  elders,  until  Dr.  Sterling  had  taken  him  under 
his  protecting  wing.  The  doctor,  a  prominent  ge- 
ologist, had  endeavored  to  teach  the  boy  the  rudi- 
ments of  his  calling,  and  Jim  had  proved  an  apt 
pupil,  but  had  shown  such  a  yearning  toward  elec- 
tricity and  kindred  subjects  that  the  kindly  doctor 
fead  purchased  for  him  some  of  the  best  books  on  the 


24  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

subject.  Over  these  the  boy  had  pored  night  and 
day,  rigging  up  apparatus  after  apparatus,  that  he 
might  experiment  with  the  great  force  first  discov- 
ered in  its  primitive  form  by  Benjamin  Franklin, 
and  later  given  to  the  world  in  such  startling  form 
by  Morse  and  Edison. 

"  I  shall  never  try  to  turn  you  from  your  purpose, 
Jim,"  said  Dorothy.  "  I  feel  that  whatever  you 
attempt  will  be  a  success.  You  have  it  in  you,  and 
in  your  lexicon  there  is  no  such  word  as  fail. 
When  do  you  begin  your  apprenticeship  ?  " 

"  In  Baltimore  this  month,  if  I  can  find  a  place." 

"Oh,  Jim,  won't  that  be  fine?  I'll  tell  Aunt 
Betty  the  moment  we  arrive.  Perhaps  some  of  her 
friends  will  know  of  an  opening.  I'm  sure  some 
of  them  will,  and  we'll  have  you  always  with  us." 

"  That  sounds  good  to  me.  I've  written  Dr. 
Sterling  to  send  my  books  and  electrical  apparatus; 
by  freight  to  Bellvieu." 

"  Then  we'll  give  you  a  fine,  large  room  all  to 
yourself,  where  you  can  set  up  your  laboratory." 

Dorothy's  enthusiasm  began  to  communicate  it- 
self to  Jim,  and  soon  he  had  launched  himself  into 
an  exposition  of  electricity  and  its  uses,  with  many 
comments  on  its  future. 

So  engrossed  were  both  boy  and  girl  in  the  dis- 


ON  THE,  TRAIN  25 

cussion  that  they  did  not  hear  Ephraim,  who  came 
silently  down  the  aisle  and  stood  in  a  respectful  at- 
titude before  them. 

"  S'cuse  me,  please,  Miss  Dorot'y,  en  Mistah  Jim, 
but  p'raps  yo'  don't  know  dat  we's  almos'  tuh  de 
Baltimore  station." 

Dorothy  threw  a  quick  glance  out  of  the  window. 

"  Oh,  so  we  are !  See,  Jim !  There's  the  old 
Chesapeake,  and  it's  a  sight  for  sore  eyes.  Now, 
for  old  Bellvieu  and  Aunt  Betty !  " 

There  was  a  hasty  gathering  of  satchels  and  para- 
phernalia as  the  train  drew  into  the  big  station. 
The  hum  of  voices  outside,  mingled  with  the  shouts 
of  the  cab  drivers  and  the  shrill  cries  of  the  news- 
boys, met  their  ears  as  they  descended  from  the 
coach. 

Through  the  throng  Ephraim  led  the  way  with 
the  luggage,  Dorothy  and  Jim  following  quickly, 
until  finally,  in  the  street,  the  girl  descried  a  familiar 
carriage,  on  the  top  of  which  a  young  colored  boy 
was  perched. 

"  Hello,  Methuselah  Bonaparte  Washington ! 
Don't  you  know  your  mistress  ? "  cried  Dorothy, 
running  toward  him. 

This  was  probably  the  first  time  Dorothy  had 
ever  called  him  anything  but  "  Metty,"  by  which 


26  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

nickname  he  was  known  at  Bellvieu,  where  he  had 
always  lived,  and  where  he  had  served  as  Aunt 
Betty's  page  and  footman  since  he  was  old  enough 
to  appreciate  the  responsibilities  of  the  position. 

His  eyes  glowed  with  affection  now,  as  he  viewed 
his  little  mistress  after  many  months'  absence.  De- 
scending from  his  perch  on  the  carriage,  he  bowed 
low  to  Dorothy,  his  face  wreathed  in  a  smile  of 
such  broad  proportions  that  it  seemed  his  features 
could  never  go  back  into  their  proper  places. 

"  Lordy,  HI'  missy,  I's  suah  glad  tuh  sot  mah 
eyes  on  yo'  once  mo'.  Ole  Bellvieu  hain't  eben  been 
interestin'  sence  yo'  lef  las'  fall." 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  Metty  ?  "  cried  the  girl,  her 
heart  warming  toward  the  little  fellow  for  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  welcome. 

"  Yas'm,  lil'  missy,  I  suah  does  mean  hit.  An' 
I  hain't  de  only  one  dat's  missed  yo'.  Mrs.  Betty 
done  been  habin'  seben  fits  sence  yo'  went  off  tuh 
school,  an'  as  fo'  Dinah  en  Chloe,  dey  hain't  smiled 
onct  all  wintah.  Dey'll  all  be  glad  tuh  see  yo'  back 
—  yas'm,  dey  suah  will !  " 

"  And  how  is  Aunt  Betty  ? "  the  girl  asked,  a 
little  catch  in  her  voice.  Instinctively  she  seemed 
to  dread  the  answer.  Aunt  Betty  was  getting  old, 
and  her  health  had  not  been  of  the  best  recently. 


ON  THE  TRAIN  27 

"  She's  pow'ful  pooh,  lil'  missy,  but  I  jes'  knows 
she'll  git  plenty  ob  strength  w'en  she  sees  yo'  lookin' 
so  fine  en  strong." 

"  Well,  take  us  to  her,"  said  Dorothy,  "  and  don't 
spare  the  horses." 

"  Yas'm  —  yas'm  —  I'll  suah  do  dat  — I'll  suah 
do  dat!" 

Through  the  narrow,  crowded  streets  of  old 
Baltimore  the  Calvert  carriage  dashed,  with  Doro- 
thy and  Jim  inside,  and  Ephraim  keeping  company 
with  Metty  on  the  box.  Metty  chose  a  route 
through  the  dirtiest  streets,  where  tumbledown 
houses  swarmed  with  strange-looking  people,  who 
eyed  the  party  curiously;  but  this  was  the  shortest 
way  to  the  great  country  home  of  the  Calverts. 
Soon  the  streets  grew  wider,  the  air  purer,  then  the 
Chesapeake  burst  into  view,  the  salty  air  refreshing 
the  tired  occupants  of  the  carriage  as  nothing  had 
done  for  days. 

Finally,  the  glistening  carriage  and  finely  capar- 
isoned horses  sped  on  a  swift  trot  through  the 
great  gateway  at  Bellvieu,  and  Dorothy,  leaning  out 
of  the  window,  saw  Aunt  Betty  standing  expect- 
antly on  the  steps  of  the  old  mansion. 

Home  at  last ! 


CHAPTER  II 

AT  OLD   BELLVIEU   AGAIN 

"  OH,  Aunt  Betty,  Aunt  Betty !  "  cried  Dorothy, 
as  she  leaped  from  the  carriage  and  dashed  across 
the  lawn  toward  the  steps,  followed  more  leisurely 
by  Jim.  "  I  just  can't  wait  to  get  to  you !  " 

Aunt  Betty  gave  an  hysterical  little  laugh  and 
folded  the  girl  in  her  arms  with  such  a  warmth 
of  affection  that  tears  sprang  into  Dorothy's  eyes. 

"  My  dear,  dear  child ! "  was  all  the  old  lady 
could  say.  Then  her  lip  began  to  tremble  and  she 
seemed  on  the  verge  of  crying. 

Dorothy  took  the  aged  face  between  her  two 
hands  and  kissed  it  repeatedly.  She  forgot  that 
Jim  was  standing  near,  waiting  for  a  greeting  — 
forgot  everything  except  that  she  was  home  again, 
with  Mrs.  Elisabeth  Cecil  Somerset-Calvert,  the  best 
and  dearest  aunt  in  the  world,  to  love  and  pet  her. 

"Break  away!  Break  away!"  cried  Jim,  after 
a  moment,  forcing  a  note  of  gayety  into  his  voice 
for  Aunt  Betty's  sake.  "  Give  a  fellow  a  chance 
for  a  kiss,  won't  you,  Dorothy  ?  " 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  29 

"  Certainly,  Jim ;  I'd  forgotten  you  were  with 
me,"  was  the  girl's  response. 

"  You,  as  well  as  Dorothy,  are  a  sight  for  sore 
eyes,"  cried  Aunt  Betty,  pleased  at  the  warm  em- 
brace and  hearty  kiss  of  her  one-time  protege. 

"  And  we're  glad  to  be  here,  you  bet ! "  Jim  re- 
plied. "A  long,  tiresome  journey,  that,  Aunt 
Betty,  I  tell  you!  The  sight  of  old  Bellvieu  is  al- 
most as  refreshing  as  a  good  night's  sleep,  and  that's 
something  I  stand  pretty  badly  in  need  of  about 
now.  And  just  gaze  at  Dorothy,  Aunt  Betty! 
Isn't  she  looking  well  ?  " 

"A  perfect  picture  of  health,  Jim.  Had  I  met 
her  in  a  crowd  in  a  strange  city,  I  doubt  if  I  should 
have  known  her." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Betty,  surely  I  haven't  changed  as 
much  as  that,"  the  girl  protested. 

"  You  don't  realize  how  you've  grown  and  broad- 
ened, and — " 

"  Broadened  ?    Oh,  Aunt  Betty !  " 

"  Broadened,  not  physically,  but  mentally,  my 
dear.  I  can  see  that  my  old  friend,  the  Bishop, 
took  good  care  of  you,  and  that  Miss  Tross-King- 
don  has  borne  out  her  well-established  reputation  of 
returning  young  ladies  to  their  relatives  greatly  im- 
proved both  in  learning  and  culture." 


30  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Well,  auntie,  dear,  I'm  satisfied  if  you  are,  and 
now,  let  me  take  off  my  things.  I'm  so  tired  of 
railroad  trains,  I  don't  care  to  see  another  for 
months." 

"  Well,  you've  had  your  work,  and  now  you  shall 
have  your  play.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  shall  be 
shut  up  in  this  hot  city  all  summer  without  a  bit 
of  an  outing.  What  would  you  say  to  a  —  oh,  but 
I'm  ahead  of  my  story!  I'll  tell  you  all  this  when 
you  are  rested  and  can  better  decide  whether  my 
plans  for  your  vacation  will  please  you." 

"  Oh,  auntie,  tell  me  now  —  don't  keep  me  in 
suspense !  " 

"  Young  ladies,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  regarding  her 
great-niece  half-severely  over  her  glasses,  "  should 
learn  to  control  their  curiosity.  If  allowed  to  run 
unbridled,  it  is  apt,  sooner  or  later,  to  get  them  into 
trouble." 

"  But,  auntie,  I  want  to  know  !  " 

Just  the  suggestion  of  a  pout  showed  itself  on 
Dorothy's  lips. 

"  What  a  pretty  mouth !  And  so  you  shall 
know." 

"  You're  the  best  auntie !  " 

Two  white  arms  went  around  Mrs.  Calvert's  neck 
and  the  pouting  face  was  wreathed  in  smiles. 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  31 

"  But  not  now,"  concluded  Aunt  Betty. 

"  Oh !  " 

The  disappointed  tone  made  Aunt  Betty  smile, 
and  she  winked  slyly  at  Jim,  as  she  observed : 

"  Isn't  it  wonderful  what  a  lot  of  interest  a  sim- 
ple little  sentence  will  arouse  ?  " 

"  I've  never  yet  met  a  girl  who  wasn't  overbur- 
dened with  curiosity  —  and  I  s'pose  I  never  shall," 
was  Jim's  response.  "  It's  the  way  they're  built. 
Aunt  Betty,  and  I  reckon  there's  no  help  for  it.  Not 
changing  the  subject,  but  how  do  I  reach  my 
room?" 

"  Ephy  will  show  you.  It's  the  big  room  on  the 
east  side.  Everything  is  ready  for  you.  When  you 
have  washed  and  freshened  up  a  bit  you  may  join 
Dorothy  and  I  on  the  lawn." 

"  Very  good ;  but  don't  wait  for  me.  I  may  de- 
cide to  take  a  snooze,  and  when  I  snooze  I'm  very 
uncertain.  Traveling  always  did  tire  me  out." 

Ephraim,  with  Jim's  suit  case,  led  the  way  up  the 
broad  stairs  of  the  Calvert  mansion,  the  boy  fol- 
lowing. 

"  Heah  we  is,  sah,"  said  the  colored  man,  after 
a  moment.  He  paused  to  throw  open  the  massive 
door  of  a  room.  "  Dis  yeah  room  am  de  very  best- 
est  dis  place  affords.  Youse  mighty  lucky,  Mistah 


32  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Jim,  tub  be  relegated  tub  de  guest  chambah,  en  I 
takes  dis  ercasion  to  congratulate  yo'." 

"  Thank  you,  Ephy.  But,  being  a  guest,  why 
should  I  not  have  the  guest  chamber?"  and  Jim's 
eyes  roamed  admiringly  over  the  old-fashioned  but 
richly-furnished  apartment. 

"  No  reason  'tall,  sah  —  no  reason  'tall.  I  hain't 
sayin'  nuffin'.  But  dis  suah  am  er  fine  room." 

The  suit  case  was  resting  on  the  floor  by  the 
wardrobe,  and  Ephraim  was  carefully  unpacking 
the  boy's  clothes,  and  putting  them  in  their  proper 
places,  while  Jim,  glad  to  be  rid  of  his  coat,  which 
he  termed  "  excess  baggage,"  was  soon  puffing  and 
blowing  in  a  huge  bowl  of  water,  from  where  he 
went  for  a  plunge  in  the  tub. 

"  Lordy,  Mistah  Jim,"  the  colored  man  chuckled, 
following  him  to  the  door  of  the  bathroom,  "  hit 
suah  looks  as  though  yo'  was  a  darkey,  en  all  de 
black  had  washed  off." 

"  That's  some  of  the  smoke  and  cinders  acquired 
during  our  journey  from  Canada.  Don't  forget 
that  you  have  them  on  you,  too,  Ephy,  only,  being 
as  black  as  ink,  they  don't  show  up  so  well." 

"Yas'r,  yas'r,  I  reckon  dat's  right."  Old 
Ephraim  continued  to  chuckle  at  frequent  intervals. 
"  Yo'  suah  is  er  great  boy,  Mistah  Jim!  " 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  33 

"  Thank  you,  Ephy." 

"  A-washin'  yo'  face  en  haid  in  de  wash  bowl, 
den  climbin'  intuh  de  tub  fo'  tub  wash  de  rest. 
Dat's  w'at  I  calls  extravagantness."  He  straight- 
ened up  suddenly.  "  Now,  sah,  yo'  clothes  is  all 
laid  out  nice,  sah.  Is  dar  anyt'ing  moah  I  kin  do  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  Ephy  —  nothing.  You've  done  every- 
thing a  gentleman  could  expect  of  his  valet.  So 
vamoose ! " 

"Huh?" 

"  Get  out  —  take  your  leave  —  anything  you  want 
to  call  it,  so  you  leave  me  alone.  I'm  going  to  take 
a  nap,  and  when  I  wake  up  I'll  be  as  hungry  as  a 
bear." 

"  Well,  I  reckon  we  kin  jes'  about  satisfy  dat 
appetite,  chile.  If  dar's  anyt'ing  mah  Miss  Betty 
hain't  got  in  de  way  ob  food,  I  hain't  nebber  dis- 
kivered  hit  yet." 

So  Ephraim  left  Jim,  to  his  own  devices,  and 
went  down  to  the  servants'  quarters,  where  he  lit- 
erally talked  the  arms  off  of  both  Chloe  and  Dinah, 
while  Metty  stood  by  with  wide-open  mouth,  as  he 
listened  to  Ephraim's  tale  of  his  adventures  in 
Canada. 

In  the  meantime,  Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty  were  in 
the  former's  big  front  room,  and  the  girl,  too,  was 


34  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

removing  the  stains  of  the  journey,  keeping  up  an 
incessant  chatter  to  Mrs.  Calvert,  the  while. 

"  I  was  perfectly  delighted  with  Oak  Knowe," 
she  said,  "  and  most  particularly  with  your  friend, 
the  Bishop,  who  received  me  with  open  arms  —  not 
figuratively,  but  literally,  Aunt  Betty  —  and  gave 
me  such  a  good  send-off  to  Miss  Tross-Kingdon 
that  I'm  sure  she  became  slightly  prepossessed  in 
my  favor." 

Dorothy  then  told  of  her  examination  by  Miss 
Hexam,  and  how  well  she  had  gone  through  the 
ordeal,  despite  the  fact  that  she  had  been  dreadfully 
nervous;  her  examination  in  music,  and  her  intro- 
duction to  the  other  scholars ;  the  antipathy,  both 
felt  and  expressed  for  her  by  Gwendolyn  Borst- 
Kennard,  a  member  of  the  British  peerage,  who 
led  the  student  body  known  as  the  "  Peers  " ;  of 
her  introduction  to  the  "  Commons,"  the  largest  and 
wildest  set  in  the  school,  who  were  all  daughters  of 
good  families,  but  without  rank  or  titles. 

"  And  I  can  see  my  mischievous  girl  entering 
into  the  pranks  of  the  '  Commons,' "  smiled  Aunt 
Betty.  "  I  only  hope  you  did  not  carry  things  with 
a  high  hand  and  win  the  disapproval  of  Miss  Tross- 
Kingdon." 

"  Occasionally  we  did,"  Dorothy  was  forced  to 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  35 

admit.  "  But  for  the  most  part  the  girls  were  a 
rollicking  lot,  going  nearly  to  the  extreme  limits  of 
behavior  when  any  fun  promised,  but  keeping  safely 
within  the  rules.  There  is  no  doubt,  Aunt  Betty, 
but  that  Miss  Tross-Kingdon  was  secretly  fonder 
of  us  than  of  the  more  dignified  '  Peers.'  " 

Then  Aunt  Betty  must  know  the  outcome  of  the 
dislike  expressed  for  Dorothy  by  Gwendolyn  Borst- 
Kennard,  so  the  girl  recounted  her  subsequent  ad- 
ventures, including  her  rescue  of  Gwendolyn  from 
the  water,  and  the  English  girl's  brave  act  in  saving 
Dorothy  from  a  frightful  slide  down  a  precipice. 

"  Just  think !  You  were  in  deadly  danger  and  I 
knew  nothing  of  it,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  a  sternly  re- 
proving note  in  her  voice. 

"  But  think,  dear  Aunt  Betty,  of  the  worry  it 
would  have  caused  you.  It  was  all  over  in  a  few 
moments,  and  I  was  safe  and  sound  again.  If  I 
had  written  you  then,  you  would  have  felt  that 
I  was  in  constant  peril,  whereas  my  escape  served 
as  a  lesson  to  me  not  to  be  careless,  and  you  would 
have  worried  over  nothing." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Dorothy ;  at  any  rate, 
now  I  have  you  with  me,  I  am  not  going  to  quarrel. 
I'm  sure  your  adventure  was  merely  the  result  of 
being  thoughtless." 


36  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  It  was.  And  Gwendolyn's  rescue  was  simply 
magnificent,  auntie.  Her  only  thought  at  that  mo- 
ment seemed  for  me." 

"  We  will  try  to  thank  her  in  a  substantial  man- 
ner some  day,  my  dear." 

"  I  should  dearly  love  to  have  her  visit  me  at 
Bellvieu,  if  only  to  show  the  cold,  aristocratic  young 
lady  the  warmth  and  sincerity  of  a  Southern  recep- 
tion." 

"  And  perhaps  you  will  have  the  opportunity. 
But  not  this  summer.  I  have  other  plans  for  you." 

"  Now,  you  are  arousing  my  curiosity  again,"  said 
Dorothy,  in  a  disappointed  tone.  "  Please,  Aunt 
Betty,  tell  me  what  is  on  your  mind." 

"  All  in  good  time,  my  dear." 

"  Has  it  —  has  it  anything  to  do  with  Uncle 
Seth  ?  "  the  girl  queried,  a  slight  tremor  in  her  voice. 
Somehow,  she  felt  that  the  death  of  the  "  Learned 
Blacksmith,"  with  whom  Aunt  Betty  had  been  so 
intimate  for  years,  had  been  responsible  in  a  meas- 
ure for  the  present  poor  state  of  her  health. 

"  Yes ;  it  has  to  do  with  your  Uncle  Seth,  poor 
man.  His  death,  as  you  have  probably  imagined, 
was  a  great  shock  to  me.  I  felt  as  though  I  had 
lost  a  brother.  And  then,  the  news  of  his  demise 
came  so  suddenly.  It  was  his  dearest  wish  th?' 


AT  OLD  BELLV1EU  AGAIN  37 

you  become  a  great  musician.  You  will  remember 
how  he  encouraged  and  developed  your  talent  while 
we  were  at  Deerhurst,  arranging  with  Mr.  Wiltnot 
to  give  you  lessons?  He  has  frequently  expressed 
himself  as  not  being  satisfied  with  your  progress. 
Shortly  before  his  death  I  had  a  letter  from  him, 
in  which  he  urged  me  to  employ  one  of  the  best 
violin  teachers  in  Baltimore  for  you  at  the  end  of 
your  course  at  Oak  Knowe.  I  feel  it  is  a  small 
favor,  to  grant,  dear,  so  if  you  are  still  of  the 
notion  that  you  were  intended  for  a  great  violinist, 
I  have  decided  to  give  you  a  chance  to  show  your 
mettle." 

"  Dear  Aunt  Betty,"  said  the  girl,  earnestly,  put- 
ting an  arm  affectionately  around  the  neck  of  her 
relative,  "  it  is  the  dearest  wish  of  my  life,  but  one." 

"  What  is  the  other  wish,  Dorothy  ?  " 

"  That  you  be  thoroughly  restored  to  health. 
Then,  if  I  can  become  perfect  on  my  violin,  I  shall 
be  delighted  beyond  measure." 

"  Oh,  my  health  is  all  right,  child,  except  that  I 
am  beginning  to  feel  my  age.  It  was  partly  through 
a  selfish  motive  that  I  planned  this  outing  in  West- 
ern Maryland." 

"  An  outing  in  Western  Maryland !  Oh,  and  was 
that  the  secret  you  had  to  tell  me  ?  " 


38  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Yes ;  the  South  Mountains,  a  spur  of  the 
famous  Blue  Ridge  range,  will  make  an  ideal  spot 
in  which  to  spend  a  few  weeks  during  the  summer 
months." 

"  It  must  be  a  beautiful  spot,"  said  the  girl.  "  I 
love  the  mountains,  and  always  have.  The  Cats- 
kills  especially,  will  always  be  dear  to  me.  When 
do  we  start,  auntie  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  you  have  perfected  your  arrange- 
ments with  Herr  Deichenberg,  and  have  rested  suf- 
ficiently from  yoilr  journey." 

"  Herr  Deichenberg?  Oh,  then  you  have  already 
found  my  teacher  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  a  perfect  treasure  he  is,  or  I  miss  my 
guess.  Do  you  remember  David  Warfield  in  '  The 
Music  Master,'  which  we  saw  at  the  theater  a  year 
ago?" 

"  Indeed,  yes,  auntie.  How  could  one  ever  for- 
get?" 

"  Herr  Deichenberg  is  a  musician  of  the  Anton 
Von  Earwig  type  —  kind,  gentle,  courteous  — 
withal,  possessing  those  sterling  qualities  so  ably 
portrayed  in  the  play  by  Mr.  Warfield.  The  Herr 
has  the  most  delightful  brogue,  and  a  shy  manner, 
which  I  am  sure  will  not  be  in  evidence  during 
lesson  hours." 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  3$ 

"  And  I  am  to  be  taught  by  a  real  musician?  " 

"  Yes." 

"What  a  lucky  girl  I  am!" 

"  If  you  think  so,  dear,  I  am  pleased.  I  have 
tried  to  make  you  happy." 

"  And  you  have  succeeded  beyond  my  fondest 
expectations.  There  is  nothing  any  girl  could  have 
that  I  have  wanted  for,  since  coming  to  live  with 
you.  You  are  the  finest,  best  and  bravest  auntie 
in  the  whole,  wide  world ! " 

"  Oh,  Dorothy !  " 

"  It's  true,  and  you  know  it.  It's  too  bad  other 
girls  are  not  so  fortunate.  To  think  of  your  hav- 
ing my  vacation  all  planned  before  I  reached  home. 
I  said  I  am  tired  of  railroad  trains,  but  I've  changed 
my  mind;  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  ride  as  far  as 
the  South  Mountains  and  return." 

"  But  in  this  instance  we  are  not  going  on  a  train, 
my  dear." 

"  Not  going  on  a  train  ? "  queried  Dorothy,  a 
blank  expression  on  her  face.  Aunt  Betty  shook 
her  head  and  smiled. 

"  Now,  I've  mystified  you,  haven't  I  ?  " 

"  You  surely  have.  The  trolleys  do  not  run  that 
far,  so  how  —  ?" 

Dorothy  paused,  perplexed. 


40  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  There  are  other  means  of  locomotion,"  said 
Aunt  Betty  in  her  most  tantalizing  tone. 

"  Yes ;  we  might  walk,"  laughed  the  girl,  "  but  I 
dare  say  we  shall  not." 

"  No ;  we  are  going  in  an  automobile." 

"  In  an  automobile  ?  Oh,  I'm  so  glad,  auntie. 
I  —  I  — "  Dorothy  paused  and  assumed  a  serious 
expression.  "  Why,  auntie,  dear,  wherever  are  we 
to  get  an  automobile?  You  surely  cannot  afford  so 
expensive  a  luxury  ?  " 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  I  cannot." 

"Then  —  ?" 

"  But  Gerald  and  Aurora  Blank  have  a  nice  new 
car,  and  they  have  offered  to  pilot  our  little  party 
across  the  state." 

"  Then  I  forgive  them  all  their  sins !  "  cried  Doro- 
thy. "  Somehow,  I  disliked  them  when  we  first 
met;  and  you  know,  dear  auntie,  they  were  rude 
and  overbearing  during  the  early  days  on  the  house- 
boat." 

"  But  before  the  end  of  the  trip,  through  a  series 
of  incidents  which  go  a  long  way  toward  making 
good  men  and  women  out  of  our  boys  and  girls, 
they  learned  to  be  gentle  to  everybody,"  Aunt  Betty 
responded,  a  reminiscent  note  in  her  voice.  "  I  re- 
member, we  discussed  it  at  the  time." 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  41 

"  I  must  say  they  got  over  their  priggishness 
quickly  when  they  once  saw  the  error  of  their 
ways,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  Yes.  Gerald  is  growing  into  a  fine  young  man, 
now.  You  know  his  father  failed  in  business,  so 
that  he  was  forced  to  sell  the  houseboat,  and  that 
Uncle  Seth  bought  it  for  you?  Well,  Gerald  has 
entered  into  his  father's  affairs  with  an  indomitable 
spirit,  and  has,  I  am  told,  become  quite  an  assist- 
ance to  him,  as  well  as  an  inspiration  to  him  to 
retrieve  his  lost  fortunes.  The  Blanks  have  grown 
quite  prosperous  again,  and  Mr.  Blank  gave  the 
auto  to  Gerald  and  Aurora  a  few  weeks  since  to 
do  with  as  they  please." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  of  Gerald's  success.  No 
doubt  he  and  Jim  will  get  along  better  this  time  — 
for,  of  course,  Jim  is  to  be  included  in  our  party?  " 

"  Indeed  we  should  never  go  a  mile  out  of  Balti- 
more without  him !  "  sniffed  Aunt  Betty.  "  It  was 
expressly  stipulated  that  he  was  to  go.  Besides 
Jim,  Gerald,  Aurora,  and  ourselves,  there  will  be 
no  one  but  Ephraim,  unless  you  care  to  invite  your 
old  chum,  Molly  Breckenridge  ?  " 

"  Oh,  auntie,  why  do  you  suggest  the  impossi- 
ble ? "  Dorothy's  face  went  again  from  gay  to 
grave.  "  Dear  Molly  is  in  California  with  her  fa- 


43  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

ther,  who  is  ill,  and  they  may  not  return  for 
months." 

"  I'd  forgotten  you  had  not  heard.  Molly  re- 
turned east  with  her  father  some  two  weeks  since, 
hence  may  be  reached  any  time  at  her  old  address." 

"  That's  the  best  news  I  have  heard  since  you 
told  me  I  was  to  study  under  Herr  Deichenberg," 
Dorothy  declared.  "  I'll  write  Molly  to-day,  and  if 
she  comes,  she  shall  have  a  reception  at  Bellvieu 
fit  for  a  queen." 

Molly  and  Dorothy  had  first  met  during  Doro- 
thy's schooldays  at  the  Misses  Rhinelanders'  board- 
ing academy  in  Newburgh,  where  they  had  been 
the  life  of  the  school.  Their  acquaintance  had  rip- 
ened into  more  than  friendship  when,  together,  they 
traveled  through  Nova  Scotia,  and  later  met  for 
another  good  time  on  the  western  ranch  of  the  rail- 
road king,  Daniel  Ford.  More  than  any  of  her 
other  girl  friends  Dorothy  liked  Molly,  hence  the 
news  that  she  had  returned  east,  and  that  she  might 
invite  her  to  share  the  outing  in  the  South  Moun- 
tains, caused  Dorothy's  eyes  to  glow  with  a  deep 
satisfaction. 

"  And  now  that  we  have  discussed  so  thoroughly 
our  prospective  outing,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  "  we  may 
change  the  subject.  It  remains  for  me  to  arrange 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  43 

an  early  meeting  for  you  with  Herr  Deichenberg. 
The  Herr  has  a  little  studio  in  a  quiet  part  of  the 
city  which  he  rarely  leaves.  It  is  quite  possible, 
however,  that  I  can  induce  him  to  come  to  Bellvieu 
for  your  first  meeting,  though  I  am  sure  he  will 
insist  that  all  your  labors  be  performed  in  his  own 
comfortable  domicile,  where  he,  naturally,  feels  per- 
fectly at  home. 

"  I  visited  the  studio  some  weeks  ago  —  shortly 
after  I  received  your  Uncle  Seth's  letter,  in  fact. 
The  Herr  received  me  cordially,  and  said  he  would 
be  delighted  to  take  a  pupil  so  highly  recommended 
as  Miss  Dorothy  Elisabeth  Somerset-Calvert." 

"  To  which  I  duly  make  my  little  bow,"  replied 
the  girl,  dropping  a  graceful  curtsey  she  had  learned 
from  Miss  Muriel  Tross-Kingdon. 

"  My  dear  Dorothy,  that  is  the  most  beautiful 
thing  I  have  ever  seen  you  do.  As  Ephraim  would 
express  it,  it  is  '  puffectly  harmonious.'  Indeed, 
you  have  improved  since  going  to  Canada,  and  it 
pleases  me  immensely." 

Aunt  Betty's  admiration  for  her  great-niece  was 
so  thoroughly  genuine  that  Dorothy  could  not  re- 
frain from  giving  her  another  hug. 

"  There,  there,  dear ;  you  overwhelm  me.  I  am 
glad  to  be  able  to  pay  you  an  honest  compliment. 


44  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

I  have  no  doubt  you  have  acquired  other  virtues  of 
which  I  am  at  present  in  ignorance." 

"  Aunt  Betty,  you're  getting  to  be  a  perfect  flat- 
terer. And  what  about  the  vices  I  may  have  ac- 
quired ?  " 

Aunt  Betty  smiled. 

"  They  are,  I  am  sure,  greatly  in  the  minority 
—  in  fact,  nothing  but  what  any  healthy,  mischiev- 
ous girl  acquires  at  a  modern  boarding  school. 
Now,  in  my  younger  days,  the  schoolmasters  and 
mistresses  were  very  strict.  Disobedience  to  the 
slightest  rule  meant  severe  punishment,  and  was 
really  the  means  of  keeping  pent  up  within  one 
certain  things  from  which  the  system  were  better 
rid.  But  I  must  go  now  and  dress.  When  you 
have  rested  and  completed  your  toilet,  pass  by  my 
room  and  we'll  go  on  the  lawn  together." 

With  a  final  kiss  Aunt  Betty  disappeared  down 
the  hall,  leaving  Dorothy  alone  with  her  thoughts. 

"  Dear  old  auntie,"  she  murmured.  "  Her  chief 
desire,  apparently,  is  for  my  welfare.  I  can  never 
in  this  world  repay  her  kindness  —  never !  " 

Then,  seized  with  a  sudden  inspiration,  she  sat 
down  at  her  writing  desk  by  the  big  window,  over- 
looking the  arbor  and  side  garden,  and  indicted  the 
following  letter  to  her  chum : 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  45 

"My  Darling  Molly: 

"  Heavy,  heavy  hangs  over  your  head !  You  are 
severely  penalized  for  not  writing  me  of  your  re- 
turn. But  to  surprise  your  friends  was  always  one 
of  your  greatest  delights,  you  sly  little  minx!  So 
I  am  not  holding  it  up  against  you.  I'll  even  the 
score  with  you  some  day  in  a  way  you  little  im- 
agine. 

"  Well,  well,  well,  you  just  can't  guess  what  I 
have  to  tell  you !  And  I'm  glad  you  can't,  for  that 
would  take  away  the  pleasure  of  the  telling.  Aunt 
Betty  has  planned  a  fine  outing  for  me  in  the  South 
Mountains,  which,  as  you  know,  form  a  spur  of 
the  Blue  Ridge  range  in  Western  Maryland.  We 
are  to  be  gone  several  weeks,  during  which  time 
who  can  say  what  glorious  adventures  we  will  have  ? 

"  You  are  going  with  us.  I  want  your  accept- 
ance of  the  invitation  by  return  mail,  Lady  Breck- 
enridge,  and  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  providing  a 
brave  knight  for  your  escort  in  the  person  of  one 
Gerald  Blank,  in  whose  automobile  we  are  to  make 
the  trip.  He  has  a  new  seven-passenger  car  given 
him  by  his  father,  and,  in  the  vulgar  parlance  of  the 
day,  we  are  going  to  '  make  things  hum.'  It  is 
only  some  sixty  miles  to  the  mountains,  and  we 
expect  to  be  out  only  one  night  between  Baltimore 


46  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

and  our  destination.  Besides  yourself,  Aunt  Betty 
and  I,  there  will  be  only  Gerald,  Aurora,  his  sister, 
Jim  Barlow,  and  Ephraim,  who  will  be  camp  cook, 
and  general  man-of -all-work. 

"  Now  write  me,  dear  girlie,  and  say  that  you  will 
arrive  immediately,  for  I  am  just  dying  with  anx- 
iety to  see  you,  and  to  clasp  you  in  my  arms.  Jim 
is  already  here,  having  traveled  to  Canada  with 
Ephy  to  bring  me  safely  home.  As  if  a  girl  of  my 
mature  age  couldn't  travel  alone !  However,  it  was 
one  of  Aunt  Betty's  whims,  she  being  in  too  ill 
health  to  come  herself,  so  I  suppose  it  is  all  right. 
Dear  auntie  will  improve  I  feel  sure  —  now  that  I 
am  back.  That  may  sound  conceited,  but  I  assure 
you  it  was  not  meant  to.  We  are  just  wrapped 
up  in  each  other  —  that's  all.  The  outing  will  do 
her  good,  and  will,  I  am  sure,  restore  in  a  measure 
her  shattered  health. 

"  And  oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you !  I  am  to  have 
violin  lessons  after  my  vacation  from  the  famous 
Herr  Deichenberg,  Baltimore's  finest  musician, 
whom  Aunt  Betty  had  especially  engaged  before  my 
return.  No  one  can  better  appreciate  than  you  just 
what  this  means  to  me.  My  greatest  ambition  has 
been  to  become  a  fine  violinist,  and  now  my  hopes 
bid  fair  to  be  realized.  I  know  it  rests  with  me 


AT  OLD  BELLVIEU  AGAIN  47 

to  a  great  extent  just  how  far  up  the  ladder  I  go, 
and  am  resolved  that  Herr  Deichenberg,  before  he 
is  through  with  me,  shall  declare  me  the  greatest 
pupil  he  has  ever  had.  It  takes  courage  to  write 
that  —  and  mean  it  —  Molly,  dear ;  but  if  we  don't 
make  such  resolves  and  stick  to  them,  we  will  never 
amount  to  much,  I  fear. 

"  My  first  meeting  with  the  Herr  Professor  will 
be  within  the  next  few  days,  and  I  am  looking 
eagerly  forward  to  the  time.  Aunt  Betty  says  he 
has  the  dearest  sort  of  a  studio  in  a  quiet  part  of 
the  city,  where  he  puts  his  pupils  through  a  course 
of  sprouts  and  brings  out  all  the  latent  energy  — 
or,  temperament,  I  suppose  you  would  call  it. 

"  Well,  Molly,  dear,  you  must  admit  that  this  is 
a  long  letter  for  my  first  day  home,  especially  when 
I  am  tired  from  the  journey,  and  have  stopped  my 
dressing  to  write  you.  So  don't  disappoint  me,  but 
write  —  or  wire  —  that  you  are  starting  at  once. 
Tell  the  dear  Judge  we  hope  his  health  has  im- 
proved to  such  an  extent  that  you  will  be  free  from 
all  worry  in  the  future.  Remember  us  to  your 
aunt,  and  don't  forget  that  your  welcome  at  old 
Bellvieu  is  as  everlasting  as  the  days  are  long. 
"  Ever  your  affectionate 

"  DOROTHY." 


48  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  There!  I  guess  if  that  don't  bring  Miss  Molly 
Breckenridge  to  time,  nothing  will." 

Dorothy  put  the  letter  in  a  dainty,  scented  en- 
velope, stamped  and  addressed  it,  and  laid  it  on 
her  dresser  where  she  would  be  sure  to  carry  it 
down  to  Ephraim  when  she  had  dressed. 

An  hour  later,  when  the  declining  sun  had  dis- 
appeared behind  the  big  hedge  to  the  west  of  Bell- 
vieu,  and  the  lawn  was  filled  with  cool,  deep 
shadows,  Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty  settled  them- 
selves in  the  open  air  for  another  chat. 


CHAPTER  III 

DOROTHY   MEETS   HERR  DEICHENBERG 

THE  arrival  of  Herr  Deichenberg  at  Bellvieu  was 
looked  forward  to  with  breathless  interest  by  Dor- 
othy, and  calm  satisfaction  by  Aunt  Betty,  whose 
joy  at  seeing  her  girl  so  well  pleased  with  the 
arrangements  made  for  her  studies,  had  been  the 
means  of  reviving  her  spirits  not  a  little,  until  she 
seemed  almost  like  her  old  self. 

The  day  following  Dorothy's  return  Ephraim  was 
sent  to  the  musician's  studio  with  a  note  from  Mrs. 
Calvert,  telling  of  the  girl's  arrival,  and  suggest- 
ing that  possibly  the  first  meeting  would  be  pro- 
ductive of  better  results  if  held  at  Bellvieu,  where 
the  girl  would  be  free  from  embarrassment.  Here, 
too,  was  a  piano,  the  note  stated,  and  Herr  Deich- 
enberg, who  was  also  an  expert  on  this  instrument, 
might,  if  he  desired,  test  Dorothy's  skill  before  tak- 
ing up  the  work  with  her  in  earnest  in  his  studio. 

Ephraim  returned  in  the  late  afternoon,  bringing 
a  written  answer  from  the  music  master,  in  which 

49 


50  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

he  stated  that  it  was  contrary  to  his  custom  to  visit 
the  homes  of  his  pupils,  but  that  in  the  present  in- 
stance, and  under  the  existing  circumstances,  he 
would  be  glad  to  make  an  exception.  He  set  the 
time  of  his  visit  at  ten  the  following  morning. 

Dorothy  awoke  next  day  with  a  flutter  of  ex- 
citement. To  her  it  seemed  that  the  crucial  mo- 
ment of  her  life  had  come.  If  she  were  to  fail  — ! 
She  crowded  the  thought  from  her  mind,  firmly 
resolved  to  master  the  instrument  which  is  said  by 
all  great  musicians  to  represent  more  thoroughly 
than  any  other  mode  of  expression,  the  joys,  hopes 
and  passions  of  the  human  soul. 

Breakfast  over,  with  a  feeling  of  contentment 
Dorothy  stole  up  to  her  room  to  dress,  the  taste  of 
Dinah's  coffee  and  hot  biscuits  still  lingering  in  her 
mouth. 

As  the  minutes  passed  she  found  herself  wonder- 
ing what  Herr  Deichenberg  would  look  like.  She 
conjured  up  all  sorts  of  pictures  of  a  stoop-shoul- 
dered little  German,  her  final  impression,  however, 
resolving  itself  into  an  image  of  "  The  Music  Mas- 
ter's "  hero,  Herr  Von  Earwig. 

Would  he  bring  his  violin?  she  wondered.  It 
was  a  rare  old  Cremona,  she  had  heard,  with  a  tone 
so  full  and  sweet  as  to  dazzle  the  Herr's  audiences 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        51 

whenever  they  were  so  fortunate  as  to  induce  him 
to  play. 

Descending  finally,  arrayed  in  her  prettiest  gown, 
a  dainty  creation  of  lawn  and  lace,  Dorothy  found 
Aunt  Betty  awaiting  her. 

"  Never  have  I  seen  you  dress  in  better  taste, 
my  dear ! "  cried  Mrs.  Calvert,  and  the  girl  flushed 
with  pleasure.  "  The  Herr,  as  you  have  perhaps 
surmised,  is  a  lover  of  simple  things,  both  in  the 
way  of  clothes  and  colors,  and  I  am  anxious  that 
you  shall  make  a  good  impression.  He,  himself, 
always  dresses  in  black  —  linen  during  the  warmer 
days,  broadcloth  in  the  winter.  Everything  about 
him  in  fact  is  simple  —  everything  but  his  playing, 
which  is  wonderful,  and  truly  inspired  by  genuine 
genius." 

"  Stop,  auntie,  dear,  or  you  will  have  me  afraid 
to  meet  the  Herr.  After  holding  him  up  as  such 
a  paragon,  is  it  any  wonder  I  should  feel  as  small 
and  insignificant  as  a  mouse  ?  " 

"  Come,  come,  you  are  not  so  foolish ! " 

"Of  course,  I'm  not,  really  —  I  was  only  jok- 
ing," and  Dorothy's  laugh  rang  out  over  the  lawn 
as  they  seated  themselves  on  the  gallery  to  await 
the  arrival  of  the  guest.  "  But  I  do  feel  a  trem- 
bling sensation  when  I  think  that  I  am  to  meet 


52  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

the  great  Herr  Deichenberg,  of  whom  I  have  heard 
so  much,  yet  seen  so  little." 

"There  is  nothing  to  tremble  over,  my  dear  — 
nothing  at  all.  He  is  just  like  other  men;  very 
ordinary,  and  surely  kind-hearted  to  all  with  whom 
he  conies  in  contact." 

As  they  were  discussing  the  matter,  Jim  and 
Ephraim  came  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  their 
hands  full  of  fishing  tackle. 

"Well,  Aunt  Betty,"  greeted  the  boy,  "we're 
off  for  the  old  Chesapeake  to  court  the  denizens 
of  the  deep,  and  I'm  willing  to  wager  we'll  have 
fish  for  breakfast  to-morrow  morning." 

He  pulled  off  his  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  and 
mopped  a  perspiring  brow. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  returned  Aunt  Betty. 
"  Fish  do  not  always  bite  when  you  want  them  to. 
I  know,  for  I've  tried  it,  many's  the  time." 

"  Mah  Miss  Betty  suah  uster  be  er  good  fisher- 
woman,"  quoth  Ephraim,  a  light  of  pride  in  his 
eyes.  "  I've  seen  her  sot  on  de  bank  ob  de  Chesa- 
peake, en  cotch  as  many  as  'leben  fish  in  one  hour. 
Big  fellers,  too  —  none  ob  yo'  HI'  cat-fish  en  perch. 
Golly !  I  suah  'members  de  time  she  hooked  dat  ole 
gar,  en  hollered  fo'  help  tuh  pull  'im  out.  Den 
all  de  folks  rush'  up  en  grab  de  line,  en  ole  Mistah 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        53 

Gar  jes'  done  come  up  outen  de  watah  like  he'd 
been  shot  out  ob  er  gun." 

Slapping  his  knees  at  the  recollection,  Ephraim 
guffawed  loudly,  and  with  such  enthusiasm  that 
Aunt  Betty  forgot  her  infirmities  and  joined  in 
most  heartily. 

"  The  joke  was  on  me  that  time,  Ephy,"  she 
finally  said,  wiping  the  tears  from  her  eyes.  "  But 
we  landed  old  '  Mistah  Gar,'  which  I  suppose  was 
what  we  wanted  after  all." 

"  Wish  I  might  hook  a  gar  to-day,"  said  Jim. 

"  En  like  as  not  yo'  will,  chile,  'case  dem  gars 
is  mighty  plentiful  in  de  bay.  Hardly  a  day  go  by, 
but  w'at  two  or  t'ree  ob  'em  is  yanked  outen  de 
sea,  en  lef  tuh  dry  up  on  de  bank." 

"  Well,  we'll  try  our  hand  at  one  if  possible. 
Good-by,  Dorothy!  Good-by,  Aunt  Betty.  Have 
plenty  of  good  things  for  lunch,"  were  Jim's  part- 
ing words,  as  he  and  Ephraim  strode  off  down  the 
path  toward  the  gate.  "  We  will  be  as  hungry  as 
bears  when  we  get  back,  and  I'm  smacking  my  lips 
now  in  anticipation  of  what  we're  going  to  have." 

"Go  along!"  said  Aunt  Betty.  "You're  too 
much  trouble.  I'll  feed  you  on  corn  bread  and  mo- 
lasses." But  she  laughed  heartily.  It  pleased  her 
to  see  Jim  enjoying  himself.  "  Oh,  maybe  I'll  cook 


54  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

something  nice  for  you,"  she  called  after  him  — 
"  something  that  will  make  your  mouth  water  sure 
enough." 

"  Yum  yum !    Tell  me  about  it  now,"  cried  Jim. 

"  No ;  I'm  going  to  surprise  you,"  answered  the 
mistress  of  Bellvieu,  and  with  a  last  wave  of  their 
hands,  Jim  and  the  old  darkey  disappeared  behind 
the  big  hedge. 

They  were  hardly  out  of  sight  before  the  figure 
of  a  little,  gray-haired  man  walked  slowly  up  to 
the  gate,  opened  it,  and  continued  his  way  up  the 
walk,  and  Dorothy  Calvert,  her  heart  beating  wildly, 
realized  that  she  was  being  treated  to  her  first  sight 
of  the  famous  music  master,  Herr  Deichenberg. 

As  the  Herr  paused  before  the  steps  of  the  Cal- 
vert mansion,  hat  in  hand,  both  Mrs.  Calvert  and 
Dorothy  arose  to  greet  him. 

Dorothy  saw  before  her  a  deeply  intellectual  face, 
framed  in  a  long  mass  of  gray  hair;  an  under  lip 
slightly  drooping;  keen  blue  eyes,  which  snapped 
and  sparkled  and  seemed  always  to  be  laughing; 
a  nose  slightly  Roman  in  shape,  below  which  two 
perfect  rows  of  white  teeth  gleamed  as  Herr  Deich- 
enberg smiled  and  bowed. 

"  I  hope  I  find  you  veil  dis  morning,  ladies," 
was  his  simple  greeting. 


"HERR  DEICHENBERQ." 

"Dorothy  Triumph." 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DE1CHENBERG        55 

"  Indeed,  yes,  Herr,"  Aunt  Betty  responded, 
offering  her  hand.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again. 
This  is  the  young  lady  of  whom  I  spoke  —  my 
great-niece,  Dorothy  Calvert." 

"  H'm !  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  Herr,  looking  the 
girl  -over  with  kindly  eye,  as  she  extended  her  hand. 
Then,  with  Dorothy's  hand  clasped  tightly  in  his 
own,  he  went  on :  "I  hope,  Miss  Dorothy,  dat  ve 
vill  get  on  very  good  togedder.  I  haf  no  reason 
to  believe  ve  vill  not,  an'  perhaps  —  who  knows  ?  — 
perhaps  ve  shall  surprise  in  you  dat  spark  of  genius 
vhich  vill  make  you  de  best  known  little  lady  in 
your  great  American  land." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  so,  Herr  Deichenberg  —  I  hope  so," 
was  the  girl's  fervent  reply.  "  It  has  been  my 
greatest  ambition." 

The  Herr  turned  to  Aunt  Betty : 

"  She  iss  in  earnest,  Madame ;  I  can  see  it  at  a 
glance,  and  it  iss  half  de  battle.  Too  many  things 
are  lost  in  dis  world  t'rough  a  lack  of  confidence, 
and  de  lack  of  a  faculty  for  getting  out  de  best  dat 
iss  in  one." 

The  Herr  sank  into  one  of  the  deep,  comfortable 
rockers  on  the  gallery,  near  Aunt  Betty,  as  Doro- 
thy, at  a  signal  from  her  aunt,  excused  herself  and 
went  in  search  of  Dinah,  with  the  result  that  mint 


56  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

lemonade,  cool  and  tempting,  was  soon  served  to 
the  trio  outside,  greatly  to  the  delight  of  the  Herr 
professor,  who  sipped  his  drink  with  great  satis- 
faction. After  a  few  moments  he  became  quite 
talkative,  and  said,  after  casting  many  admiring 
glances  over  the  grounds  of  old  Bellvieu: 

"  Dis  place  reminds  me  more  than  anything  I 
have  seen  in  America,  of  my  fadder's  place  in  Ger- 
many. De  trees,  de  flowers,  de  shrubs  —  dey  are 
all  de  same.  You  know,"  he  added,  "  I  live  in  Balti- 
more, dat  iss  true,  yet,  I  see  very  little  of  it.  My 
list  of  pupils  iss  as  large  as  I  could  well  desire, 
und  my  time  iss  taken  up  in  my  little  studio." 

"  But  one  should  have  plenty  of  fresh  air,"  said 
Aunt  Betty.  "  It  serves  as  an  inspiration  to  all 
who  plan  to  do  great  things." 

"  Dat  sentiment  does  you  credit,  madame.  It  iss 
not  fresh  air  dat  I  lack,  for  I  have  a  little  garden 
in  vhich  I  spend  a  great  deal  of  time,  both  morning 
und  evening  —  it  iss  de  inspiration  of  a  grand  es- 
tate like  dis.  It  makes  me  feel  dat,  after  all,  there 
iss  something  I  have  not  got  out  of  life." 

There  was  a  suspicious  moisture  in  the  Herr's 
eyes,  brought  there,  no  doubt,  by  recollections  of 
his  younger  days  in  the  Old  Country,  and  Aunt 
Betty,  noticing  his  emotion,  hastened  to  say: 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        57 

"  Then  it  will  give  us  even  greater  pleasure,  Herr 
Deichenberg,  to  welcome  you  here,  and  we  trust 
your  visits  will  be  neither  short  nor  infrequent." 

"  Madame,  I  am  grateful  for  your  kindness.  No 
one  could  say  more  than  you  have,  and  it  may  be 
dat  I  vill  decide  to  give  Miss  Dorothy  her  lessons 
in  her  own  home,  dat  ve  may  both  have  de  inspira- 
tion of  de  pretty  trees  und  flowers." 

"  Aside  from  the  fact  that  I  am  anxious  to  see 
your  studio,"  said  the  girl,  "  that  arrangement  will 
please  me  greatly." 

"  It  vill  please  me  to  be  able  to  show  you  my 
studio,  anyvay,"  said  the  Herr. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  America  ?  "  Aunt 
Betty  wanted  to  know,  as  the  Herr  again  turned 
toward  her. 

"  I  came  over  just  after  de  Civil  War.  I  was 
quite  a  young  lad  at  de  time  und  a  goot  musician. 
I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  employment  in  New 
York  City,  vhere  I  played  in  a  restaurant  orchestra 
for  a  number  of  years.  Den  I  drifted  to  Vash- 
ington,  den  to  Baltimore,  vhere  I  have  remained  ever 
since." 

"  And  have  you  never  been  back  across  the 
water  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

"  Yes ;  once  I  go  back  to  my  old  home  to  see  my 


58  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

people.  Dat  was  de  last  time  dat  I  see  my  fadder 
und  mudder  alive.  Now  I  have  few  relatives  liv- 
ing, und  almost  no  desire  to  visit  Germany  again. 
America  has  taken  hold  of  me,  as  it  does  every 
foreigner  who  comes  over,  und  has  made  of  me 
vhat  I  hope  iss  a  goot  citizen." 

The  talk  then  drifted  to  Dorothy's  lessons. 
Herr  Deichenberg  questioned  her  closely  as  to  her 
experience,  nodding  his  head  in  grave  satisfaction 
as  she  told  of  her  lessons  from  Mr.  Wilmot  at 
Deerhurst.  Then,  apparently  satisfied  that  she 
would  prove  an  apt  pupil,  he  asked  to  be  allowed 
to  listen  to  her  playing.  So,  at  Aunt  Betty's  sug- 
gestion, they  adjourned  to  the  big  living-room, 
where  Dorothy  tenderly  lifted  her  violin  from  its 
case. 

As  she  was  running  her  fingers  over  the  strings 
to  find  if  the  instrument  was  in  tune,  she  noticed 
Herr  Deichenberg  holding  out  his  hand  for  it. 

She  passed  it  over.  The  old  German  gave  it  a 
careful  scrutiny,  peering  inside,  and  finally  nodding 
his  head  in  satisfaction. 

"  It  iss  a  goot  instrument,"  he  told  her.  "  Not 
as  goot  as  either  a  Cremona  or  a  Strad,  but  by  all 
means  goot  enough  to  serve  your  purpose." 

"  It  was  a  present  from  my  Uncle  Seth,"  said 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        59 

Dorothy,  "  and  I  prize  it  very  highly,  aside  from  its 
actual  value." 

41  Und  so  you  should  —  so  you  should,"  said  the 
Herr.  "  Come,  now," —  moving  toward  the  piano. 
"  You  read  your  music  of  course  ?  " 

Dorothy  admitted  that  she  did. 

The  Herr,  sitting  on  the  stool  before  the  large, 
old-fashioned  instrument,  struck  a  chord. 

"  Tune  your  instrument  with  me,  und  we  vill  try 
something  you  know  veil.  I  shall  then  be  able  to 
judge  both  of  your  execution  und  your  tone. 
There  iss  de  chord.  Ah !  now  you  are  ready  ?  All 
right.  Shall  we  try  de  '  Miserere  '  from  '  II  Trova- 
tore? '  I  see  you  have  it  here." 

Dorothy  nodded  assent. 

Then,  from  somewhere  in  his  pocket,  Herr  Deich- 
enberg  produced  a  small  baton,  and  with  this  flour- 
ished in  his  right  hand,  his  left  striking  the  chords 
on  the  piano,  he  gave  the  signal  to  play. 

Her  violin  once  under  her  chin,  the  bow  grasped 
firmly  in  her  hand,  what  nervousness  Dorothy  had 
felt,  quickly  vanished.  She  forgot  the  Herr  pro- 
fessor, Aunt  Betty  —  everything  but  the  music  be- 
fore her.  Delicately,  timidly,  she  drew  her  bow 
across  the  strings,  then,  when  the  more  strenuous 
parts  of  the  Miserere  were  reached,  she  gathered 


60  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

boldness,  swaying  to  the  rhythm  of  the  notes,  until 
a  light  of  positive  pleasure  dawned  in  Herr  Deich- 
enberg's  eyes. 

"  Ah ! "  he  murmured,  his  ear  bent  toward  her, 
as  if  to  miss  a  single  note  would  be  a  rare  penance. 
"  Ah,  dat  iss  fine  —  fine !  " 

Suddenly,  then,  he  dropped  his  baton,  and  fell 
into  the  accompaniment  of  the  famous  piece,  his 
hands  moving  like  lightning  over  the  keys  of  the 
piano. 

Such  music  Aunt  Betty  vowed  she  had  never 
heard  before. 

With  a  grand  flourish  the  Herr  and  Dorothy 
wound  up  the  Miserere,  and  turned  toward  their 
interested  listener  for  approval.  And  this  Aunt 
Betty  bestowed  with  a  lavish  hand. 

"  I  am  proud  indeed  to  know  you  and  to  have 
you  for  a  pupil,"  the  music  master  said,  turning  to 
Dorothy.  "  You  have  an  excellent  touch  and  your 
execution  iss  above  reproach,  considering  de  les- 
sons you  have  had.  I  am  sure  ve  shall  have  no 
trouble  in  making  of  you  a  great  musician." 

Flushing,  partly  from  her  exertions,  partly 
through  the  rare  compliment  the  great  professor 
had  paid  her  ability,  the  girl  turned  to  Aunt  Betty 
and  murmured: 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        6l 

"  Oh,  auntie,  dear,  I'm  so  glad !  " 

"  And  I  am  delighted,"  said  Aunt  Betty.  "  That 
is  positively  the  most  entrancing  music  I  have  ever 
heard." 

Herr  Deichenberg  showed  his  teeth  in  a  hearty 
laugh. 

"  She  shall  vait  until  you  have  practiced  a  year, 
my  little  girl,"  he  said,  winking  at  his  prospective 
pupil.  "  Den  who  shall  say  she  vill  not  be  charmed 
by  vhat  she  hears  ?  But  come,"  he  added,  sobering, 
"  let  us  try  somet'ing  of  a  different  nature.  If  you 
are  as  proficient  in  de  second  piece  as  in  de  first, 
I  shall  have  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  you  one 
of  de  most  extraordinary  pupils  who  has  ever  come 
under  my  observation." 

Dorothy  bowed,  and  throwing  her  violin  into 
position,  waited  for  the  Herr  professor  to  select 
from  the  music  on  the  piano  the  piece  he  wished 
her  to  play. 

"  Ah !  here  iss  '  Hearts  und  Flowers.'  Dat  iss  a 
pretty  air  und  may  be  played  with  a  great  deal  of 
expression,  if  you  please.  Let  me  hear  you  try  it, 
Miss  Dorothy." 

Again  the  baton  was  waved  above  the  Herr  pro- 
fessor's head.  The  next  instant  they  swung  off 
into  the  plaintive  air,  Dorothy's  body,  as  before, 


62  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

keeping  time  to  the  rhythm  of  the  notes,  the  music 
master  playing  the  accompaniment  with  an  ease  that 
was  astonishing.  In  every  movement  the  old  Ger- 
man showed  the  finished  musician.  Twice  during 
the  rendition  of  the  piece  did  he  stop  Dorothy,  to 
explain  where  she  had  missed  the  fraction  of  a 
beat,  and  each  time,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  the 
girl  rallied  to  the  occasion,  and  played  the  music 
exactly  as  he  desired. 

The  ordeal  over  at  last,  Herr  Deichenberg  was 
even  more  lavish  in  his  praise  of  Dorothy's  work. 

"  Of  course,  she  iss  not  a  perfect  violinist,"  he 
told  Aunt  Betty.  "  Ve  could  hardly  expect  dat, 
you  know.  But  for  a  young  lady  of  her  age  und 
experience  she  has  made  rapid  progress.  Herr 
Wilmot,  who  gave  de  first  lessons  had  de  right  idea, 
und  there  iss  nothing  dat  he  taught  her  dat  ve 
shall  have  to  change." 

Out  on  the  broad  gallery,  as  he  was  taking  his 
leave,  the  professor  looked  proudly  at  Dorothy 
again. 

"  I  repeat  dat  I  am  glad  to  meet  you  und  have 
you  for  a  pupil.  Vhen  shall  de  first  lesson  be 
given  ?  " 

Dorothy  threw  a  quick  glance  at  Aunt  Betty. 

"  Not  for  at  least  four  weeks,  Herr  Deichenberg," 
said  that  lady. 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        63 

"  Eh  ?  Vhat ! "  cried  the  old  music  master. 
"  Not  for  four  weeks !  Vhy  iss  it  dat  you  vait  an 
eternity?  Let  us  strike  vhile  de  iron  iss  hot,  as 
de  saying  has  it." 

"  But,  Herr,  my  little  girl  has  just  returned  from 
a  winter  of  strenuous  study  at  the  Canadian  school 
of  Oak  Knowe,  and  I  have  promised  her  a  rest  be- 
fore she  takes  up  her  music." 

"  If  dat  iss  so,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  curb  my 
impatience,"  he  replied,  regretfully.  "  But  let  de 
time  be  as  short  as  possible.  If  you  are  going 
avay,  please  notify  me  of  your  return,  und  I  vill 
manage  to  come  to  Bellvieu  to  give  Miss  Dorothy 
her  first  lesson.  But  don't  make  it  too  long!  I 
am  anxious  —  anxious.  She  vill  make  a  great 
musician  —  a  great  musician.  So  goot  day,  ladies. 
It  has  been  a  pleasure  to  me  —  dis  visit." 

"  Let  us  hope  there  will  be  many  more,  Herr 
Deichenberg,"  said  Aunt  Betty. 

They  watched  the  figure  of  the  little  music 
teacher  until  it  disappeared  through  the  gate  and 
out  of  sight  behind  the  hedge.  Then  they  turned 
again  to  their  comfortable  rockers,  to  discuss  the 
visit  and  Dorothy's  future. 

"Oh,  Aunt  Betty,"  confessed  the  girl,  "I  was 
terribly  nervous  until  I  felt  my  violin  under  my 
chin.  It  seemed  to  give  me  confidence,  and  I  played 


64  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

as  I  have  never  played  before.  Somehow,  I  felt  I 
could  not  make  a  mistake.  I'm  so  glad  the  Herr 
professor  was  pleased.  Isn't  he  a  perfect  dear? 
So  genteel,  so  polished,  in  spite  of  his  dialect  — 
just  the  kind  of  a  man  old  Herr  Von  Earwig  was 
in  '  The  Music  Master.'  " 

Dinah  came  out  on  the  gallery  to  say  that  Doro- 
thy was  wanted  at  the  'phone. 

"  Oh,  I  wonder  who  it  can  be  ?  "  said  the  girl. 
"  I  didn't  think  any  of  my  friends  knew  I  was 
home." 

She  hastened  inside,  and  with  the  receiver  at  her 
ear,  in  keen  anticipation  murmured  a  Soft 

"Hello!" 

"  Hello,  Dorothy,  dear !     How  are  you  ?  " 

It  was  a  girl's  voice  and  the  tones  were  familiar. 

"Who  is  this?  I  — I  don't  quite  catch  the  —  ! 
Oh,  surely ;  it's  Aurora  Blank !  " 

"  You've  guessed  it  the  first  time.  I  only 
learned  a  few  moments  ago  that  you  were  home. 
I'm  just  dying  to  see  you,  to  learn  how  you  liked 
your  trip  and  the  adventures  you  had  at  school. 
You'll  tell  me  about  them  in  good  time,  won't  you, 
Dorothy?" 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course.  On  our  camping  trip, 
perhaps." 


DOROTHY  MEETS  HERR  DEICHENBERG        65 

"Won't  that  be  jolly?  Papa  says  we're  to  stay 
in  the  mountains  as  Jong  as  we  like  —  that's  what 
he  bought  the  auto  for.  Gerald  and  I  have  been 
planning  to  start  the  first  of  the  week  if  you  can 
be  ready." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  we  can.  I'll  speak  to  Aunt  Betty 
and  let  you  know." 

"  Do  so,  and  I'll  run  over  to  Bellvieu  to-morrow 
to  discuss  the  details.  Did  that  nice  boy,  Jim  Bar- 
low, return  to  Baltimore  with  you  ?  " 

lt  Yes ;  he  is  going  with  us  on  the  trip  —  at  least. 
Aunt  Betty  said  he  was  included  in  the  invitation." 

"  Indeed  he  is !  I  like  him  immensely,  dear  — • 
lots  more  than  he  likes  me,  I  reckon." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know !  " 

"  I'm  sure  of  it." 

"Aurora,  I'm  afraid  you're  trying  to  make  at 
conquest." 

"  No,  I'm  not  —  honor  bright.  But  he's  a  dear 
boy  and  you  can  tell  him  I  said  so." 

"  I'll  do  that,"  said  Dorothy,  with  a  laugh.  Then 
she  said  good-by  and  hung  up  the  receiver.  "  I 
guess  I  won't ! "  she  muttered,  as  she  went  out  to 
join  Aunt  Betty  again.  "Jim  Barlow  would  have 
a  conniption  fit  if  he  ever  knew  what  Aurora  Blank 
had  said." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   BEGINNING  OF   THE   TRIP 

"  I'M  glad  to  see  you  again,  Miss  Blank.  You'll 
find  Dorothy  waiting  for  you  in  the  house." 

It  was  the  following  morning,  and  Jim  had  been 
roaming  about  the  grounds  when  Aurora  came  in. 
At  first  he  had  seemed  disinclined  to  be  affable,  for 
her  actions  on  Dorothy's  houseboat  had  been  any- 
thing but  ladylike,  until,  like  many  another  young 
girl,  she  had  been  taught  a  lesson;  but  he  decided 
to  be  civil  for  the  Calverts'  sake,  at  least. 

"  But  I  want  to  see  you,  Jim,"  Aurora  persisted. 
"  You  don't  mind  my  calling  you  '  Jim,'  do  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  And  will  you  call  me  Aurora  ?  " 

"  If  you  wish." 

"  I  do  wish.  We're  going  on  a  long  camping  trip 
together,  as  I  suppose  you've  heard." 

"Yes,  and  I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  invita- 
tion." 

"  You've  decided  to  accept,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Yes.  At  first  I  didn't  think  I  could ;  but  Aunt 
66 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  67 

Betty  —  Mrs.  Calvert,  that  is  —  said  if  I  didn't  I'd 
incur  her  everlasting  displeasure,  so  I've  arranged 
to  go." 

"  I'm  delighted  to  hear  it.  We  just  can't  fail  to 
have  a  good  time." 

"  I  figure  on  its  being  a  very  pleasant  trip,  Miss 
Blank  —  er  —  I  mean,  Aurora." 

"  You  should  see  our  new  car,  Jim.  Papa  pre- 
sented it  to  Gerald  and  I,  and  it's  a  beauty.  Ger- 
ald's coming  over  with  it  to-day  to  teach  you  and 
Ephraim  how  to  run  it.  Then  you  can  take  turns 
playing  chauffeur  on  our  trip  across  country.  I 
imagine  if  I  were  a  boy  that  I  should  like  nothing 
better." 

Jim's  face  brightened  as  she  was  speaking. 

"  Thank  you ;  I  believe  I  will  learn  to  run  the  ma- 
chine if  Gerald  doesn't  care." 

"  Care  ?  He'd  better  not !  The  machine  is  a 
partnership  affair,  and  I'll  let  you  run  my  half. 
But  he  won't  object,  and  what's  more,  he'll  be  only 
too  glad  to  lend  you  the  car  occasionally  to  take 
Mrs.  Calvert  and  Dorothy  riding." 

"  I'll  ask  him  when  he  comes  over,"  said  the  boy. 

Electricity  was  Jim's  chief  hobby,  but  anything 
of  a  mechanical  nature  appealed  to  him.  While  a 
gasoline  car  uses  electricity  only  to  explode  its, 


68  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

fuel,  Jim  was  nevertheless  deeply  interested,  par- 
ticularly as  he  had  never  been  able  to  look  into  the 
construction  of  an  auto  as  thoroughly  as  he  would 
have  desired. 

"  When  do  we  start  ?  "  he  asked  Aurora. 

"  The  first  of  next  week,  if  it's  all  right  with 
Mrs.  Calvert  and  Dorothy." 

"  Who  dares  talk  of  Dorothy  when  she  is  not 
present?"  demanded  that  young  lady,  coming  out 
on  the  gallery  at  this  moment.  "  I  believe  this  is  a 
conspiracy." 

"Dorothy  Calvert!" 

"Aurora  Blank!" 

These  sharp  exclamations  were  followed  by  a 
joyous  hug  and  a  half  dozen  kisses.,  while  Jim  stood 
looking  on  in  amusement. 

"  Say,  don't  I  get  in  that  game  ?  "  he  wanted  to 
know. 

"  If  you  wish,"  said  Aurora,  throwing  him  a  co- 
quettish glance. 

"No  indeed J"  laughed  Dorothy.  "Gentlemen 
are  entirely  excluded."  She  turned  to  her  girl 
friend.  "  How  well  you  are  looking !  And  what  a 
pretty  dress ! " 

"  Do  you  like  it,  Dorothy  ?  Mamma  had  it  made 
for  me  last  week.  At  first  it  didn't  please  me  — 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  69 

the  front  of  the  waist  is  so  crazy  with  its  pleats  and 
frills." 

"Oh,  that's  what  I  liked  about  it  — what  first 
caught  my  eye.  It's  odd,  but  very,  very  pretty." 

"  Excuse  me !  "  murmured  Jim.  "  The  conver- 
sation grows  uninteresting,"  and  turning  his  back, 
he  walked  off  down  the  lawn.  He  cast  a  laughing 
glance  over  his  shoulder  an  instant  later,  however, 
shaking  his  head  as  if  to  say,  "  Girls  will  be  girls." 

"  Come  into  the  house,  Aurora,  and  tell  me  about 
yourself.  What  has  happened  in  old  Baltimore 
since  I've  been  gone?  Really,  Aunt  Betty  and  I 
have  been  too  busy  arranging  for  my  music  lessons, 
and  with  various  and  sundry  other  things  to  have 
a  good  old-time  chat." 

"  Things  have  been  rather  dull  here.  Gerald  and 
I  went  with  papa  and  mamma  to  the  theaters  twice 
a  week  last  winter,  with  an  occasional  matinee  by 
ourselves,  but  aside  from'  that,  life  has  been  very 
dull  in  Baltimore  —  that  is,  until  the  auto  came  a 
few  weeks  since.  Now  we  take  a  '  joy '  ride  every 
afternoon,  with  an  occasional  evening  thrown  in  for 
good  measure." 

"  I  am  anxious  to  see  your  car,  Aurora." 

"  And  I  am  anxious  to  have  you  see  it." 

"  It  must  be  a  beauty." 


70  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Oh,  it  is."  Aurora  leaned  toward  her  friend. 
"  Confidentially,  Dorothy,  it  cost  papa  over  four 
thousand  dollars." 

"  Just  think  of  all  that  money  to  spend  for  pleas- 
ure !  "  cried  Dorothy.  "  But  then,  it  makes  you 
happy,  and  I  suppose  that's  what  money  is  for." 

"  Did  you  ask  your  aunt  about  starting  on  our 
trip  the  first  of  the  week?  " 

"Yes,  and  it's  all  right.  We'll  be  ready.  The 
only  thing  worrying  me  now  is  that  I'm  expecting 
to  hear  from  one  of  my  dearest  girl  chums,  Molly 
Breckenridge  — " 

"  Oh,  and  is  she  going  with  us  ?  " 

"Aunt  Betty  made  me  ask  her.  She  said  you 
wanted  us  to  make  up  the  party,  and  include  Gerald 
and  yourself." 

"  That's  the  very  idea.  It's  your  trip,  Dorothy, 
given  in  honor  of  your  home-coming." 

"  I'm  sure  that's  nice  of  you,  Aurora.  And  now 
let's  discuss  — " 

"  Pawdon  me,  Miss  Dorot'y,"  interrupted  Eph- 
raim,  entering  at  this  moment.  "I  —  I  —  er  — 
good  mawnin',  Miss  Aurory." 

"  Good  morning,  Ephy,"  Dorothy's  visitor  re- 
sponded. "Has  anyone  told  you  that  you  are  to 
become  a  chauffeur  ?  " 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  71 

"  Wat's  dat,  Miss  Aurory  ?  A  show  f er  ?  A 
show  f  er  w'at  ?  " 

"  A  chauffeur,  Ephy,  is  a  man  who  drives  an 
automobile." 

"  One  o'  dem  fellers  dat  sets  up  in  de  front  seat 
en  turns  de  steerin'  apparatus  ?  " 

"  Exactly.     How  would  you  like  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  nebber  monkeyed  round  dem  gasoline 
contraptions  none,  but  I  reckon  I'd  like  tuh  do  w'at 
yo'  say,  Miss  Aurory  —  yas'm ;  I  jes'  reckon  I 
would." 

"  Well,  Gerald  is  coming  over  some  time  to-day 
to  show  you  and  Jim  a  few  things  about  the  car. 
You  will  take  turns  playing  chauffeur  on  our  camp- 
ing trip,  and  he  wants  to  give  you  a  lesson  every 
day  until  we  leave." 

"  Dat  suah  suits  me,"  grinned  the  old  negro. 

"  But  what  did  you  want,  Ephy?  "  Dorothy  asked, 
recalling  him  suddenly  to  his  errand. 

"  Oh,  Lordy,  I  done  fergit  w'at  I  come  fo'. 
Lemme  see  —  oh,  yas'm,  I  got  er  lettah  fo'  yo'. 
Jes'  lemme  see  where  I  put  dat  doggone  —  er  — 
beggin'  yo'  pawdon,  young  ladies,  I  —  Heah  hit 
is!" 

The  letter,  fished  from  one  of  Ephraim's  capa- 
cious pockets,  was  quickly  handed  over. 


72  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"Oh,  it's  from  Molly!"  the  girl  cried,  joyously, 
as  she  looked  at  the  postmark.  "  Let's  see  what 
she  has  to  say.  You  may  go,  Ephy." 

"  Yas'm,"  responded  the  darkey,  and  with  an 
elaborate  bow  he  departed. 

Tearing  open  the  letter,  Dorothy  read  as  follows : 

"My  Dear,  Dear  Chum: — 

"  To  say  that  I  was  overwhelmed  by  your  very 
kind  invitation,  is  to  express  it  mildly,  indeed.  The 
surprise  was  complete.  I  had  hardly  realized  that 
you  had  finished  your  course  at  Oak  Knowe  and 
returned  to  Baltimore.  It  is  strange  how  rapidly 
the  time  flies  past. 

"  We  returned  from  California,  some  two  weeks 
ago.  Papa  is  greatly  improved  in  health,  for  which 
we  are  all  duly  thankful.  He  says  he  feels  like  a 
new  man  and  his  actions  bear  out  his  words.  He 
wants  to  know  how  his  little  Dorothy  is,  and  when 
she  is  coming  to  visit  him.  In  the  meantime,  it 
may  be  that  I  shall  bring  the  answer  to  him  in  per- 
son, as  I  am  leaving  next  Monday  evening  for  Balti- 
more, and  you,  dear  Dorothy ! 

"  How  glad  I  shall  be  to  see  you !  As  for  the 
camping  trip,  you  know  how  I  love  an  outing,  and 
this,  I  am  sure,  will  prove  to  be  one  of  the  finest  I 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  73 

have  ever  had.     So,  until  Tuesday  morning,  when 
you  meet  me  at  the  train,  au  revoir. 

"  Ever  your  loving 

"  MOLLY." 

"  I  just  know  I  shall  like  Molly  Breckenridge," 
cried  Aurora.  "  Such  a  nice  letter !  I  have  already 
pictured  in  my  mind  the  sort  of  girl  that  wrote  it." 

"  You  will  like  her,  Aurora,  for  she  is  one  of 
the  best  girls  that  ever  breathed.  Full  of  mischief, 
yes,  but  with  a  heart  as  big  as  a  mountain.  There 
is  nothing  she  won't  do  for  anyone  fortunate 
enough  to  be  called  her  friend." 

"  I  hope  to  be  that  fortunate  before  our  trip  is 
over.  But  you,  Dorothy,  are  more  than  friend  to 
her.  One  can  see  that  from  the  tone  of  the  letter." 

"  I  hope  and  believe  I  am  her  dearest  chum." 

"  You  are  my  dearest  chum,  Dorothy  Calvert !  " 
cried  Aunt  Betty,  who  entered  the  room  at  this  mo- 
ment. "  How  are  you,  Aurora  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  Mrs.  Calvert." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  here.  My  little  girl  will 
get  lonesome,  I  fear,  unless  her  friends  drop  in 
frequently  to  see  her." 

"  I  shall  almost  live  over  here,  now  Dorothy  is 
home,"  replied  Aurora. 


74  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Indeed  she  will,"  Dorothy  put  in.  "  And  Molly 
is  coming,  Aunt  Betty ! "  Triumphantly  she  dis- 
played the  letter.  "  Ephy  just  brought  it.  Want 
to  read  it?" 

"  No ;  you  can  tell  me  all  about  it,  dear,"  returned 
Aunt  Betty.  "  I  am  glad  she  is  coming.  I  hardly 
thought  she'd  refuse.  Judge  Breckenridge  is  very 
good  to  her,  and  allows  her  to  travel  pretty  much 
as  she  wills." 

The  talk  turned  again  to  the  camping  trip. 

"  I  have  talked  it  over  with  Dorothy,"  said  Aunt 
Betty,  "  and  we  have  decided  to  be  ready  Wednes- 
day morning." 

"  That  will  suit  us  fine,"  said  Aurora.  "  Gerald 
couldn't  get  away  before  Tuesday  anyway,  and  an- 
other day  will  not  matter.  He  thinks  we'd  better 
plan  to  start  in  the  cool  of  the  morning,  stopping 
for  breakfast  about  eight  o'clock  at  some  village 
along  the  route  —  there  are  plenty  of  them,  you 
know.  The  recent  rains  have  settled  the  dust,  and 
the  trip,  itself,  should  be  very  agreeable.  We  fig- 
ure on  being  out  only  one  night,  reaching  the 
mountains  on  the  second  morning.  Of  course,  if 
pushed,  the  auto  could  make  it  in  much  less  time, 
but  Gerald  thinks  we'd  better  take  our  time  and 
enjoy  the  ride." 


75 

"  The  plan  is  a  fine  one,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  "  espe- 
cially the  getting  away  in  the  early  morning,  before 
the  hot  part  of  the  day  sets  in." 

"  I  thoroughly  agree  with  you,  auntie,"  said 
Dorothy. 

"If  we  fail  to  find  a  village,"  Aunt  Betty  con- 
tinued, "  where  we  can  get  coffee  and  rolls,  we  will 
draw  on  our  own  supply  of  provisions  and  eat  our 
breakfast  en  route.  Or  we  can  stop  by  the  way- 
side, where  Ephy  can  make  a  fire  and  I  can  make 
some  coffee." 

"  Oh,  you  make  my  mouth  water,"  said  Aurora, 
who  knew  that  Aunt  Betty  Calvert's  coffee  was 
famous  for  miles  around. 

Aurora  took  her  leave  a  short  while  later,  and 
hardly  had  she  gone  before  Gerald  Blank  drew  up 
in  front  of  the  Calvert  place  in  his  big  automobile 
and  cried  out  for  Jim  and  Ephraim. 

Neither  the  boy  nor  the  negro  needed  a  second 
invitation.  Each  had  been  keen  in  anticipation  of 
the  ride  —  Jim  because  of  his  natural  interest  in 
mechanism  of  any  sort;  Ephraim  because  he  felt 
proud  of  the  title  "  chauffeur,"  which  Aurora  had 
bestowed  upon  him,  and  was  curious  to  have  his 
first  lesson  in  running  "  dat  contraption,"  as  he 
termed  it. 


76  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  I  tell  you,  Gerald,  she's  a  dandy,"  said  Jim, 
after  the  boys  had  shaken  hands  and  made  a  few 
formal  inquiries  about  the  interval  which  had 
elapsed  since  last  they  met.  As  Jim  spoke,  his  eye 
roamed  over  the  long  torpedo  body  of  the  big  tour- 
ing car. 

Straight  from  the  factory  but  a  few  weeks  since, 
replete  with  all  the  latest  features,  the  machine  rep- 
resented the  highest  perfection  of  skilled  mechanical 
labor.  The  body  was  enameled  in  gray  and 
trimmed  in  white,  after  the  fashion  of  many  of  the 
torpedo  type  of  machines  which  were  then  coming 
into  vogue. 

Seeing  Jim's  great  interest,  Gerald,  who  was  al- 
ready a  motor  enthusiast,  went  from  one  end  of  the 
car  to  the  other,  explaining  all  the  fine  points. 

"  There  is  not  a  mechanical  feature  of  the  Ajax 
that  has  not  been  thoroughly  proven  out  in  scores 
of  successful  cars,"  he  said.  "  Now,  here,  for  in- 
stance, is  the  engine."  Throwing  back  the  hood 
of  the  machine,  the  boy  exposed  the  mechanism. 
"  That's  the  Renault  type  of  motor,  known  as  '  the 
pride  of  France/  and  one  of  the  finest  ever  in- 
vented. Great  engineers  have  gone  on  record  that 
the  men  who  put  the  Ajax  car  together  have  ad- 
vanced five  years  ahead  of  the  times.  You  will 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  77 

notice,  Jim,  that  the  engine  valves  are  all  on  one 
side.  You're  enough  of  a  mechanician  to  appre' 
ciate  the  advantage  of  that.  It  makes  it  simple  and 
compact,  and  gives  great  speed  and  power.  We 
should  have  little  trouble  in  traveling  seventy  miles 
an  hour,  if  we  chose." 

"  Lordy,  we  ain't  gwine  tuh  chose !  "  cried  Eph. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  had  the  speed  mania, 
Ephy,"  was  Gerald's  good-natured  retort. 

"Don'  know  jes'  w'at  dat  is,  Mistah  Gerald,  but 
I  ain't  got  hit  —  no,  sah,  I  ain't  got  hit." 

"  Now,  Jim,"  Gerald  continued,  as  they  bent  over 
to  look  under  the  car,  "  you  see  the  gear  is  of  the 
selective  sliding  type,  which  has  been  adopted  by 
all  the  high  grade  cars.  And  back  here  is  what 
they  term  a  floating  axle.  The  wheels  and  tires 
are  both  extra  large  —  in  fact,  there  is  nothing 
about  the  car,  that  I've  been  able  to  discover,  that 
is  not  the  best  in  the  business." 

"  What  a  fine  automobile  agent  you'd  make, 
Gerald!" 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"  Surely.  You  spiel  it  off  like  a  professional. 
The  only  difference  is,  I  feel  what  you  say  is  true. 
I  am  greatly  taken  with  that  engine,  and  should 
like  to  see  it  run." 


?8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  When  we  start  in  a  moment,  you  shall  have  that 
pleasure.  Of  course,  I  could  run  it  for  you  now, 
while  the  machine  is  standing  still,  but  they  say  it's 
poor  practice  to  race  your  engine.  If  you  do  so, 
the  wear  and  tear  is  something  awful." 

"  I'd  heard  that,  but  had  forgotten,"  said  Jim. 

"  Well,  come  on,  now,  and  I'll  take  you  and 
Ephy  for  a  spin,  and,  incidentally,  I'll  teach  you 
both  how  to  run  the  car." 

Jim  crawled  into  the  front  seat,  Ephraim  occupy- 
ing the  big  five-passenger  compartment  in  the  rear. 
Gerald,  after  "cranking  up,"  took  his  seat  behind 
the  steering  wheel. 

"All  ready,  Ephy?" 

"  Yas'r  —  yas'r." 

"  Then  we're  off." 

The  big  Ajax  started  without  a  jar  and  moved 
almost  noiselessly  off  down  the  road.  The  engine 
ran  so  smoothly  that  it  was  hard  to  imagine  any- 
thing but  an  electric  motor  was  driving  the  machine. 

Gerald  knew  Baltimore  and  its  environs  by  heart. 
He  did  not  enter  the  city  immediately,  however,  but 
kept  to  the  fine  country  roads  which  lay  just  out- 
side. When  a  level  stretch  was  reached  once,  he 
put  her  on  the  high  speed,  and  Jim  and  Ephraim 
traveled  for  a  few  moments  at  a  pace  neither  had 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  79 

ever  experienced  before  —  even  on  a  railroad  train. 

Finally,  slowing  down,  Gerald  said: 

"  Now  I'll  change  places  with  you,  Jim,  and  you 
shall  run  the  car." 

The  change  was  quickly  effected,  Jim  being  eager 
to  feel  the  big  steering  wheel  in  his  grasp,  his  feet 
on  the  pedals  in  front,  with  the  single  thought  in 
his  mind  that  the  Ajax  was  run  and  controlled  by 
his  hand  alone. 

Gerald  explained  the  points  of  starting,  showing 
him  the  three  speeds  forward  and  the  reverse ;  how 
to  regulate  his  spark  so  as  to  keep  the  motor  from 
knocking,  especially  on  heavy  grades ;  then  how  to 
advance  the  spark  where  the  pull  was  slight,  so  as 
to  make  the  motor  work  cooler  and  to  use  less 
gasoline. 

Jim  admired  Gerald's  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
car.  It  showed  a  side  to  the  boy's  nature  that  Jim 
had  not  suspected  —  in  fact,  the  Gerald  Blank  who 
owned  this  auto  was  hardly  the  same  boy  who  had 
caused  so  much  dissension  on  the  houseboat  the 
summer  before. 

"  When  you  think  you've  had  enough,  we'll  let 
Ephy  try  it,"  said  Gerald. 

"  I'd  never  get  enough,"  smiled  Jim.  "  So  better 
let  Ephy  get  a-hold  right  here  and  now." 


8o  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

He  good-naturedly  resigned  his  post,  and 
Ephraim  soon  found  himself  sitting  in  the  chauf- 
feur's seat,  the  big  steering  wheel  almost  touching 
his  breast,  his  feet  on  the  pedals.  Then  Gerald  in- 
structed him  as  he  had  Jim.  When  he  told  the 
old  negro  to  press  slowly  on  one  of  the  pedals  to 
make  the  machine  slow  down,  Ephraim  misunder- 
stood his  orders  and  pressed  the  wrong  one,  with 
the  result  that  the  speed  remained  undiminished, 
while  the  exhaust  set  up  such  a  beating  that  Ephy 
turned  a  shade  whiter. 

The  joke  was  on  him.  No  harm  was  done,  and 
soon,  when  Gerald  and  Jim  were  through  laughing 
at  him,  he  began  to  show  considerable  agility  in  the 
handling  of  the  car. 

"  I'll  give  you  both  another  lesson  to-morrow," 
said  Gerald,  as,  some  seven  miles  out  of  the  city, 
he  took  charge  of  the  big  machine  and  turned  for  the 
run  back  to  Baltimore. 

Soon  the  engines  began  to  sing  as  the  car  gath- 
ered headway.  The  road  was  clear  ahead,  hence 
Gerald  felt  no  qualms  about  "  speeding  her  up." 
He  kept  a  close  watch,  however,  for  lanes  and 
crossroads,  twice  slowing  down  for  railway  cross- 
ings, only  to  resume  his  former  pace  when  on  the 
other  side.  Trees  and  houses  flashed  past  in  hope- 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  81 

less  confusion.  A  cloud  of  dust  arose  behind  them, 
and  mingled  with  the  gaseous  smoke  that  came  from 
the  rear  of  the  machine. 

Through  the  city  they  went,  now  at  a  much 
lessened  pace  —  in  fact,  at  only  eight  miles  an  hour, 
which  was  the  speed  limit  in  the  city  —  finally  turn- 
ing out  along  the  shores  of  the  Chesapeake  toward 
old  Bellvieu. 

Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty  were  sitting  on  the  gal- 
lery when  they  drew  up,  and  waved  their  hands  at 
Gerald  as  he  let  Jim  and  Ephraim  out  and  turned 
his  machine  toward  home. 

"  You  are  both  chauffeurs  now,  I  suppose  ? " 
queried  Aunt  Betty,  as  the  pair  came  up  the  walk 
toward  the  house. 

"  Ephraim  is,  at  least,"  laughed  Jim. 

"  Yas'r,  yas'r ;  I  suah  is,"  said  Ephraim  with  a 
deep  chuckle.  "  Dis  yere  joy  ridin'  business  am 
gittin'  intuh  mah  blood.  Nebber  ain't  gone  so  fast 
in  mah  whole  life  as  w'en  Mistah  Gerald  done  let 
dat  blame  contraption  out.  Lordy,  but  we  jes' 
flew ! " 

"Where  did  Jim  come  in?"  Dorothy  wanted  to 
know. 

"  Oh,  Mistah  Gerald  teached  him  how  tuh  run 
de  machine,  en  den  he  teached  me.  I  tell  yo'  w'at, 


g2  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Miss  Betty,  I's  gwine  tub  be  yo'  shofer  all  right, 
en  I's  gwine  tub  be  a  mighty  good  one,  too." 

"  He  can  hardly  wait  for  Gerald  to  come  back 
to-morrow,"  said  Jim. 

"  Then  Gerald  is  coming  back,  is  he  ? "  asked 
Dorothy. 

"  Yes ;  we  can't  learn  to  run  his  car  in  one  les- 
son, you  know.  I  reckon  I  haven't  much  call  to 
talk  about  Ephy's  enthusiasm,  for  the  fever's  in 
my  blood,  too." 

"That's  what  they  call  '  automobilitis/ "  said 
Aunt  Betty. 

"  Well,  whatever  hit  am,  I's  got  it,"  said  Ephraim, 
with  a  grave  shake  of  his  head.  Then  he  emitted 
another  chuckle  and  walked  away. 

The  next  few  days  passed  quickly. 

Gerald  came  each  afternoon,  as  he  had  prom- 
ised, and  before  the  long-looked- for  day  arrived, 
both  Jim  and  Ephraim  were  nearly  as  proficient  in 
the  use  of  the  car  as  he. 

On  Tuesday  afternoon  Molly  Breckenridge  ar- 
rived, as  she  had  promised  in  her  letter,  Dorothy, 
Jim  and  Metty  meeting  the  train  with  the  barouche. 

To  describe  the  meeting  between  the  girls  would 
be  impossible.  A  bystander,  observing  the  hugs  and 
kisses  they  bestowed  upon  each  other,  might  well 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  TRIP  83 

have  wondered  who  they  were,  to  be  so  lavish  with 
their  affection. 

"  You  "\iear,  good  girl !  "  Dorothy  kept  saying, 
over  and  over,  each  word  accented  by  another  kiss. 

Molly  surprised  Jim  by  kissing  him  rapturously 
on  the  cheek,  an  act  the  boy  did  not  like,  but  which 
he  took  with  the  good  nature  he  knew  would  be 
expected  of  him. 

Later,  in  confidence,  he  confessed  his  displeasure 
to  Gerald,  which  caused  that  young  man  to  go  off 
into  a  fit  of  merriment. 

"  You're  a  funny  fellow,  Jim,"  he  said,  finally, 
when  he  had  induced  a  sober  expression  to  remain 
on  his  face.  "  Most  fellows  would  go  several  miles 
out  of  their  way  to  get  a  kiss  from  Molly  Brecken- 
ridge.  But  you,  with  kisses  thrust  upon  you,  are 
angry.  Well,  that  may  be  all  right,  but  I  don't 
understand  it  —  hanged  if  I  do !  " 

But  Jim  vouchsafed  no  further  comment.  He 
only  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  CAMP   IN   THE   MOUNTAINS 

OLD  Bellvieu  was  early  astir  on  Wednesday 
morning,  the  time  set  for  the  departure.  At  four 
o'clock,  when  the  darkness  without  was  still  intense, 
Ephraim,  who  had  been  awakened  by  an  alarm 
clock,  went  from  door  to  door  of  the  big  mansion, 
arousing  the  inmates. 

The  provisions  and  cooking  utensils  had  been 
packed  in  baskets  and  were  setting  in  the  front  hall, 
ready  to  be  carried  to  the  automobile  when  Gerald 
and  Aurora  should  arrive.  There  was  also  a 
hamper  containing  extra  clothes  for  Aunt  Betty, 
Dorothy  and  Molly. 

It  was  two  sleepy-eyed  girls  who  came  slowly 
down  the  back  stairway  to  eat  hominy,  biscuits  and 
coffee,  prepared  by  Chloe  and  Dinah  in  the  big 
kitchen  —  sleepy-eyed,  because  the  chums  had  lain 
awake  more  than  half  the  night  talking  over  old 
times.  Molly's  trip  to  California  had  been  told  of 
to  the  most  minute  detail,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
discourse  Dorothy  had  started  on  her  adventures 
84 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  85 

at  Oak  Knowe.  Then  to  sleep  at  half  past  one,  to 
rise  at  four ! 

It  was  no  wonder  Dorothy  said,  as  they  entered 
the  kitchen : 

"  I  feel  like  the  last  rose  of  summer.  The  next 
time  you  keep  me  awake  till  nearly  morning,  Molly 
Breckenridge,  I'm  going  to  be  revenged." 

"  The  same  to  you,  Dorothy  Calvert,"  was 
Molly's  retort.  "  You  seem  to  have  no  regard  for 
my  condition  after  my  long  journey  here.  I  needed 
rest,  but  you  kept  me  awake  all  night  with  your 
constant  chatter,  telling  me  things  that  did  not  in- 
terest me." 

"I  didn't!" 

"You  did!" 

And  so  forth  and  so  on.  Then,  when  Chloe, 
Dinah  and  Metty,  were  staring  open-mouthed,  im- 
pressed with  the  fact  that  the  young  ladies  had 
apparently  descended  in  a  very  bad  humor,  both 
girls  laughed,  threw  their  arms  about  each  other's 
neck,  and  concluded  their  performance  with  a  re- 
sounding kiss. 

"  My,  how  affectionate ! "  said  Aunt  Betty,  who 
entered  at  this  moment.  "  And  what  swollen 
eyes ! " 

"  Why,  isn't  that  strange  ?  "  asked  Dorothy,  as- 


86  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

suming  an  innocent  look.  "  She  says  our  eyes  are 
swollen,  Molly  —  and  after  all  the  sleep  we  had, 
too." 

Aunt  Betty  laughed. 

"  Do  you  think,  my  dears,  I  did  not  hear  you 
talking  'way  into  the  night  ?  " 

"Oh,  did  you,  auntie?" 

"  Yes ;  but  it  was  your  first  night  together,  so  I 
decided  to  say  nothing.  But  come;  let  us  eat,  for 
Gerald  and  Aurora  will  shortly  be  here  in  the  car." 

The  girls  needed  no  second  invitation.  The  cof- 
fee, made  by  Chloe,  after  Aunt  Betty's  special 
recipe,  was  delicious,  and  served  to  revive  the  sleepy 
girls,  •while  the  biscuits,  as  Molly  expressed  it, 
"  fairly  melted  in  your  mouth." 

The  meal  over,  preparations  for  departure  went 
forward  rapidly,  and  when,  at  half  past  five,  just 
as  the  sun  was  getting  ready  to  peep  above  the  dis- 
tant horizon,  the  big  touring  car  drew  up  in  front 
of  the  place,  Aunt  Betty,  the  girls,  Jim  and  Ephraim 
were  all  waiting  on  the  gallery. 

"  Ship  ahoy !  What  ship  is  that  ? "  cried  Jim, 
cupping  his  hands  at  Gerald. 

"  The  good  ship  Ajax,  out  of  Baltimore  for  the 
South  Mountains.  Four  first  and  one  second  class 
cabins  reserved  for  your  party,  Mr.  Barlow." 


««  THE  PARTY  CLIMBED  INTO  THE  Bid  MACHINE." 

"Dorothy  Triumph." 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  87 

There  was  much  good-natured  badinage  as  the 
party  climbed  into  the  big  machine.  Molly  and 
Aurora  seemed  to  take  to  each  other  from  the  first, 
and  Aunt  Betty  saw  with  no  little  satisfaction  that 
the  trip  bade  fair  to  be  a  happy  one. 

When  the  baskets  were  all  under  the  seats,  or 
placed  in  the  great  trunklike  compartment  on  the 
rear  of  the  machine,  along  with  several  large  tent 
flaps  and  a  coil  of  rope,  the  party  waved  a  cheery 
good-by  to  Chloe,  Dinah  and  Metty,  Gerald  started 
the  Ajax,  and  they  went  bowling  off  down  the 
smooth  road  on  the  first  stage  of  their  journey. 

Gerald  occupied  the  driver's  seat  with  Dorothy 
beside  him.  In  the  big  rear  seat  were  Aunt  Betty, 
Molly  and  Aurora,  while  the  smaller  seats  at  either 
side  were  occupied  by  Jim  and  Ephraim. 

The  city  was  just  beginning  to  stir  itself  as  the 
big  car  rolled  through  the  main  streets  and  out  into 
the  suburbs  beyond. 

Soon  the  city  limits  were  passed,  and  the  great 
country  highway,  so  enticing  to  Baltimore  automo- 
bilists,  lay  before  them. 

Straight  toward  the  west  Gerald  drove  the  car, 
the  miles  being  reeled  off  at  a  good  rate  of  speed 
—  all,  in  fact,  that  Aunt  Betty  would  allow. 

"  I'm  no  speed  maniac,"  she  told  Gerald,  ia  re- 


88  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

sponse  to  his  query  as  to  whether  she  cared  to  ride 
as  fast  as  a  railroad  train.  "  I'm  well  satisfied  at 
the  present  pace.  I  feel  that  it  is  as  fast  as  we  can 
go  in  perfect  safety,  and  I  have  no  desire  to  en- 
danger the  lives  of  the  young  ladies  under  my 
charge.  This  is  not  a  limited,  anyway,  but  just  a 
slow  train  through  Maryland." 

"  I'll  bear  that  in  mind,"  the  boy  returned,  smil- 
ing. 

Some  miles  further  on  the  country  grew  rolling 
and  hilly.  Patches  of  dense  timber  were  pene- 
trated, and  finally  the  machine  shot  out  onto  a  broad 
plain  which  stretched  away  for  many  leagues  to- 
ward the  west.  The  sun  was  well  up  now,  but  the 
party  had  hardly  felt  its  warmth.  The  big  auto- 
mobile, moving  along  at  a  fair  rate  of  speed,  cre- 
ated enough  breeze  to  keep  the  occupants  at  a  com- 
fortable temperature. 

Dorothy  and  Molly,  thoroughly  awake  now,  and 
in  no  way  missing  the  sleep  they  had  lost,  kept  up 
an  incessant  chatter,  Aurora  and  Aunt  Betty  occa- 
sionally chiming  in. 

"  I've  never  thought  to  ask,  but  what  sort  of 
sleeping  quarters  are  we  to  have  at  the  camp  ?  " 
asked  Molly. 

"  Goodness  me !     I  hadn't  thought  of  that,"  said/ 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  89 

Aunt  Betty.  "  Gerald,  did  you  provide  sleeping 
quarters  for  the  lady  guests  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  there  are  several  portable  tent  tops 
packed  in  the  rear  compartment." 

"  Tent  tops !  Indeed,  it  seems  to  me  we'll  need 
some  tent  sides,  too,  if  we  are  to  sleep  with  any 
peace  of  mind." 

This  caused  a  general  laugh. 

"  I've  provided  for  that,  too,"  said  Gerald. 
"  Don't  worry.  It  was  impossible  to  carry  poles 
and  stakes,  however,  so  Jim  and  I  will  show  our 
woodcraft  by  cutting  them  in  the  mountains  where 
-we  camp." 

"  I  imagine  we'll  think  of  several  things  we've 
forgotten  before  we've  been  long  at  our  destina- 
tion," said  Aurora. 

Dorothy  uttered  a  startled  exclamation. 

"  My  goodness !  How  you  startled  me,"  said 
Aunt  Betty.  "  What's  wrong  ?  " 

"  I've  forgotten  something  already." 

"  Now  our  troubles  begin."  Mrs.  Calvert  heaved 
a  long  sigh  of  resignation.  "  Well,  what  is  it?  " 

"  My  curling  irons." 

"  PoufT !  I  might  have  known  you  were  starting 
a  joke.  You'll  be  lucky  to  have  a  comb  and  brush, 
young  lady,  let  alone  curling  irons,  and  as  for  a 


90  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

mirror,  I'm  blessed  if  I  believe  we  thought  to  bring 
one." 

"  I  have  one,"  smiled  Aurora.  "  It  will  do  for 
all.  We  can  take  turns  each  morning  combing  our 
hair." 

"  A  fine  idea,"  said  Jim.  "  Every  morning,  I'll 
delegate  myself  as  a  sort  of  camp  marshal  to  see 
that  each  of  you  has  a  turn  at  the  mirror.  So  when 
you  hear  me  call,  '  Hey,  Molly ;  you're  next ! '  you 
want  to  bestir  yourself." 

Ephraim,  who  had  been  silent  most  of  the  time 
since  the  car  left  the  city,  now  burst  into  a  loud 
guffaw. 

"  Lordy,  but  I  didn't  imagine  dis  was  gwine  tuh 
be  sich  er  ceremonious  occasion.  I  done  lef  man 
curlin'  irons  tuh  home,  but  maybe  yo'-all  will  take 
pity  on  er  pooh  colored  gem'man  en  allow  him  tuh 
comb  his  curly  locks  in  front  ob  yo'  solitary  glass." 

"Of  course,  we  will,  Ephy,"  said  Aurora  — "  es- 
pecially after  all  that  fine  language.  You  shall  have 
your  turn  —  I'll  see  to  that." 

It  was  eight  o'clock  when  Gerald  stopped  the  car 
in  front  of  a  small  village  inn.  The  community 
was  just  bestirring  itself,  and  the  inhabitants  gazed 
long  and  curiously  at  the  party. 

Addressing  a  middle-aged  man  who  sat  on  the 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  91 

front  steps  of  the  hostelry,  smoking  a  pipe,  Gerald 
said : 

"  How  about  breakfast  for  seven  ?  " 

"  Reckon  we  can  accommodate  you,"  was  the 
reply,  in  a  low  drawl  — "  that  is,  if  you  ain't  too 
particular  what  you  eat." 

"  Needn't  worry  about  that.  We're  hungry  — 
that's  all.  Some  fresh  milk  and  eggs,  some  crisp 
slices  of  fried  bacon,  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  a  few 
things  of  a  similar  nature  will  be  more  than  suffi- 
cient." 

"  You've  just  hit  off  my  bill  o'  fare  to  a  T,"  the 
man  responded,  grinning.  "  Come  in  and  make 
yourselves  at  home,  while  I  go  tell  Martha  there's 
some  extry  mouths  to  feed." 

The  members  of  the  little  camping  party  needed 
no  urging,  for  the  early  morning  ride  had  given 
them  large  appetites,  which  they  were  anxious  to 
satiate. 

Soon  the  Ajax  was  standing  silent  in  front  of 
the  building,  while  its  occupants  were  grouped  in  the 
little  parlor  of  the  hotel,  waiting  the  welcome  call 
to  breakfast. 

"  There's  a  picture  of  George  Washington,"  said 
Jim,  as  his  glance  roamed  about  the  room.  "  Won- 
der if  there's  a  village  hotel  in  any  part  of  the  orig- 


92  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

inal  thirteen  states,  which  hasn't  a  picture  of  our 
immortal  ancestor?" 

"  Probably  not,"  smiled  Gerald.  "  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson seems  also  to  be  a  favorite.  See,  there  he 
is,  peeking  at  you  from  behind  the  what-not." 

"  And  there's  Robert  E.  Lee,  bless  his  heart," 
cried  Dorothy,  to  whom  the  southern  hero's  name 
was  the  occasion  for  no  little  amount  of  reverence 
—  thoughts  that  had  been  instilled  in  her  mind  by 
Aunt  Betty,  loyal  southerner  that  she  was. 

The  hotel  proprietor  appeared  on  the  scene  a  few 
moments  later  with  the  cheery  remark : 

"  You  all  can  come  into  the  dinin'-room  now." 

He  led  the  way  through  the  hall  and  into  a  small, 
though  comfortable,  room,  where  the  landlady  had 
already  begun  to  serve  the  breakfast. 

Their  appetites  sharpened  by  the  ride,  everyone 
did  ample  justice  to  the  things  which  were  put  be- 
fore them.  Even  Aunt  Betty,  usually  a  light  eater, 
consumed  three  eggs,  two  glasses  of  milk  and  a 
plate  of  friend  bacon,  topping  them  off  with  a  cup 
of  strong  coffee. 

"  Whatever  has  come  over  you  ?  "  cried  Dorothy 
in  delight.  "  I  never  knew  you  to  eat  so  much  for 
breakfast,  auntie,  dear." 

"  I  just  wanted  it,"  was  Aunt  Betty's  response, 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  93 

'Fand,  wanting  it,  I  see  no  reason  why  I  should  not 
have  it.  I  have  no  intention  of  denying  myself 
what  sustenance  I  require." 

"  Then  never  talk  to  me  again  about  being  an 
invalid ! "  cried  the  girl.  "  When  I  came  back  to 
Bellvieu  I  was  led  to  believe  that  you  were  fast 
failing  in  health.  But,  as  yet,  I  have  seen  no  indi- 
cation that  you  are  not  as  hale  and  hearty  as  the 
best  of  us." 

"  I  feel  some  better  —  that  I  will  freely  admit." 

"And  at  the  end  of  our  camping  trip  you  are 
going  to  feel  better  still.  Who  knows  ?  You  may 
take  on  ten  or  twelve  pounds  in  weight."  This 
from  Jim. 

"  Well,  let  us  hope  not.  I  am  carrying  now  all 
the  flesh  I  am  able  to  put  up  with." 

Breakfast  over  at  last,  the  party  lost  no  time  in 
re-embarking,  and  soon  the  big  Ajax,  given  a  new 
lease  on  life  by  reason  of  a  sharp  turn  of  the  crank 
in  front,  was  again  speeding  on  its  way. 

The  car  proved  itself  an  excellent  traveler.  The 
roads  were  rough  in  many  places,  yet  not  once  dur- 
ing the  day  did  any  trouble  arise  either  from  mech- 
anism or  tires. 

The  machine  proceeded  at  a  steady  gait  until 
shortly  after  noon,  when,  in  another  village  some 


94  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

forty  odd  miles  from  Baltimore,  the  party  stopped 
for  lunch. 

Here  the  supply  of  gasoline  was '  replenished, 
Gerald  having  already  been  forced  to  draw  upon  his 
reserve.  This  was  necessitated  by  his  having  for- 
gotten to  fill  his  tank  before  leaving  home. 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  came  to  neglect  such  an 
important  matter,"  he  said  to  Jim.  He  seemed 
rather  piqued. 

"  Mistakes  will  happen,  no  matter  what  you  are 
doing  or  where  you  are,"  was  Jim's  reply,  intended 
to  be  consoling.  "  Suppose  we  had  run  out  of  gaso- 
line between  towns,  though  ?  " 

Gerald  grinned  at  the  thought. 

"  But  we  didn't,"  he  said. 

"Yes;  but  if  we  had?" 

"  Well,  some  of  us  would  have  taken  a  little 
journey,  to  the  nearest  available  supply,  and  brought 
some  back  with  us  —  that's  all.  Fortunately,  in 
these  days  of  the  automobile,  an  ample  supply  of 
gasoline  may  be  found  at  any  country  store.  There 
was  a  time  when  it  was  as  hard  as  the  mischief  to 
get  it." 

"  How  far  can  you  run  with  one  supply  ?  " 

"  Seventy-five  miles,  without  the  reserve,  which 
is  good  for  another  forty." 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  95 

This  machine  seems  complete  in  every  particu- 
lar, with  its  reserve  tank,  and  store  box  behind." 

"  Surely.  While  called  a  touring  car,  it  has  many 
of  the  features  of  a  roadster." 

"A  roadster?" 

"  Yes ;  a  car  built  for  traveling  across  country  — 
one  you  can  take  long  trips  in  —  a  car  built  to 
stand  no  end  of  wear  and  tear." 

"  All  right,  boys ! "  Aurora  called  out  at  this  mo~ 
ment.  "  We're  through  lunch.  Let's  be  moving. 
You  know  we  want  to  get  as  near  the  mountains 
as  possible  before  putting  up  for  the  night." 

So  on  they  went,  the  country  spreading  out  be- 
fore them  in  gentle  undulations.  The  Ajax  would 
climb  a  low  hill  to  pass  the  pinnacle  and  go  bowling 
down  into  some  miniature  valley,  over  foot-bridges 
and  through  grove  after  grove  of  pretty  trees.  It 
seemed  that  old  Mother  Nature  had  spread  on  the 
scenic  touches  with  a  master  hand  in  this  part  of 
Maryland,  and  the  occupants  of  the  car  thoroughly 
enjoyed  themselves,  particularly  as  the  recent  rains 
had  soaked  the  dirt  so  thoroughly  it  had  not  yet  had 
time  to  resolve  itself  again  into  dust. 

Farmers  stopped  to  watch  them,  often  to  wave 
hat  or  handkerchief  as  they  went  flying  past.  To 
these  salutations  the  girls  took  delight  in  replying, 


96  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

greatly  to  the  disgust  and  chagrin  of  Jim  Barlow. 

"  Why,  you  don't  even  know  them ! "  he  said  to 
Dorothy  in  a  sternly  reproving  tone,  when  she 
chided  him  gently  about  a  reproof  he  had  just  ad- 
ministered to  Molly,  who  had  become  quite  en- 
thusiastic in  her  efforts  to  attract  the  attention  of  a 
young  farmer  lad  who  was  plowing  in  a  nearby 
field. 

"  Neither  do  they  know  us,"  the  girl  responded. 
"  Besides,  Molly  is  her  own  mistress,  and  you  have 
no  right  to  tell  her  she  may  or  may  not  do  as  she 
pleases." 

"  But  I  can  express  my  opinion  on  the  subject," 
growled  Jim.  "  This  is  a  free  country." 

"  Ugh !  He's  a  regular  bear  to-day,  girls,"  said 
Aurora.  "  Let's  leave  him  alone  until  he  can  be 
civil." 

Which  made  Jim  grate  his  teeth  in  rage.  He 
gradually  cooled  off,  however,  when  he  found  that 
no  one  was  paying  any  attention  to  him,  and  by  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  was  laughing  and  chat- 
ting as  gayly  as  ever. 

Villages  appeared  before  their  gaze  every  few 
miles,  only  to  vanish  behind  them  as  they  went 
down  the  main  street,  the  hoarse-voiced  horn  send- 
ing out  its  warning  to  pedestrians.  Their  speed 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  97 

was  clearly  within  the  limits  of  what  was  required 
by  law,  however,  so  they  experienced  no  trouble 
from  country  constables,  as  is  often  the  case  when 
automobile  parties  go  on  tour. 

Throughout  the  afternoon  the  big  auto  kept  up 
its  steady  gait,  reeling  off  mile  after  mile,  until  the 
sun  had  disappeared  below  the  horizon.  Just  when 
dusk  was  ready  to  envelop  the  land  they  descried 
in  the  distance  a  good-sized  town,  and  beyond  it 
some  miles  the  eastern  spur  of  the  South  Moun- 
tams. 

"  There,  children,  is  where  we  will  be  camping  if 
all  goes  well  to-morrow,"  said  Aunt  Betty. 

"  Sounds  mighty  good  to  me,"  said  Gerald. 
"Here,  Ephy,  take  hold  of  this  steering  wheel 
awhile.  I'm  going  to  stretch  myself  and  gaze  out 
over  the  country  a  bit." 

Ephraim,  delighted  at  the  confidence  reposed  in 
him  by  the  boy,  clambered  into  the  front  seat,  while 
Gerald  took  one  of  the  small  seats  in  the  rear  com- 
partment, facing  Jim. 

Sometime  later  Ephraim  guided  the  car  into  the 
main  street  of  the  village,  and,  at  Aunt  Betty's 
suggestion  stopped  before  what  seemed  to  be  a 
hotel  of  the  better  class.  Upon  investigation  ac- 
commodations were  found  to  be  so  tempting,  the 


98  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

party  decided  to  spend  the  night.  Gerald  regis- 
tered for  the  crowd,  while  Ephraim,  with  a  stable 
boy  belonging  at  the  hotel,  took,  the  Ajax  around 
to  the  rear  where  shelter  might  be  had  from  the 
elements. 

Supper  was  served  at  seven-thirty  in  a  large  and 
commodious  dining-room,  and  the  campers  sus- 
tained their  reputations  for  ravenous  eaters  so  well 
that  the  proprietor  secretly  wrung  his  hands  in 
despair.  Had  these  city  folks  come  to  eat  him  out 
of  house  and  home  ?  he  wondered. 

He  was  glad  when  the  meal  was  over,  and  the 
visitors  had  departed  down  the  street  in  search  of 
amusement  before  turning  in. 

This  amusement  was  found  at  the  town  hall, 
where  a  cheap  theatrical  company  was  offering  the 
time-worn  favorite,  "  Lady  Audley's  Secret." 
Even  Aunt  Betty  enjoyed  the  old  play  which  she 
had  not  seen  for  years,  though  she  declared  that  the 
scene  at  the  well  gave  her  a  fit  of  the  "  creeps." 

The  company  was  a  very  mediocre  one  —  in  fact, 
an  organization  which  made  its  living  off  of  small 
town  audiences,  where  the  standard  set  is  not  so 
high,  and  a  little  less  for  the  money  does  not  seem 
to  matter. 

To  bed  at  eleven  and  up  at  six  was  the  story  of 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  99 

the  night,  as  recorded  by  the  master  of  ceremonies, 
James  Barlow,  who  was  the  first  to  awaken  in  the 
morning,  and  who  aroused  Ephraim  and  told  him 
to  wake  the  others. 

The  proprietor  of  the  hotel,  evidently  fearing  a 
repetition  of  the  night  before,  was  careful  to  put  on 
the  table  only  such  food  as  he  felt  his  guests  should 
have,  and  when  a  second  portion  was  asked  for  his 
solitary  waiter  was  instructed  to  say  that  the  con- 
cern was  out  of  that  particular  dish. 

While  Jim  and  Molly  were  hardly  satisfied  at 
being  limited  to  but  one  batch  of  pan-cakes  each, 
they  were  too  eager  to  be  on  their  way  to  register 
a  protest. 

As  soon  as  the  sun  had  risen  the  South  Moun- 
tains loomed  up  distinctly  to  the  west,  the  purple 
haze  which  had  enveloped  them  the  night  before 
being  gone.  Instead,  the  sun  seemed  to  glint  off 
the  peaks  like  burnished  gold.  However,  as  Old 
Sol  rose  higher,  this  effect  was  gradually  dissipated, 
and  after  a  two  hours'  ride,  during  which  the 
progress  was  very  slow  on  account  of  the  condition 
of  the  roads,  the  party  found  themselves  in  the 
foothills,  with  the  mountains  looming  close  at  hand. 

A  pretty  sight  lay  before  their  eyes  a  short  time 
later,  when  Gerald  stopped  the  machine  half  way 


joo  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

up  the  side  of  one  of  the  mountains,  and  they  gazed 
out  over  the  valley,  through  which  a  silvery  stream 
of  water  flowed  merrily  toward  the  Potomac. 
Then,  their  eyes  thoroughly  satiated,  they  began  to 
look  for  a  suitable  place  in  which  to  make  their 
camp. 

"  Seems  to  me  there's  a  desirable  spot  over  there 
on  that  plateau,"  said  Dorothy.  "  There  are  lots 
of  fine  shade  trees,  and  we  would  have  an  excellent 
view  of  the  valley.  And  then,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, that  path  leading  down  the  mountainside 
goes  to  yonder  village,  and  it  is  just  as  well  to  be 
in  close  proximity  to  what  supplies  we  may  need." 

"  That  village  is  farther  away  than  you  think," 
said  Jim. 

"  Well,  we'll  ride  over  and  look  at  the  plateau, 
anyway,"  said  Gerald. 

"  Getting  there  is  the  next  thing,"  said  Molly. 

The  way  did  appear  difficult.  The  road  they 
were  on  wound  up  and  around  the  mountain,  and 
it  was  only  after  a  most  diligent  search  that  Gerald 
and  Jim  discovered  another  road  leading  off  in  an- 
other direction  and  finally  crossing  the  plateau. 

They  reached  their  destination  some  time  later, 
and  found  the  prospective  camp-site  even  more  sat- 
isfactory than  they  had  expected.  A  vote  of  the 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  101 

party  was  taken,  and  it  was  unanimously  decided 
to  stay  on  this  spot. 

"  It  will  soon  be  noon,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  at  once 
assuming  charge  of  arrangements.  "  So  let's  un- 
load the  things  while  the  boys  are  fixing  the  tents. 
If  we  have  good  luck  we  shall  have  our  lunch  in 
good  Camp  Blank." 

"  Oh,  not  Blank,"  said  Aurora,  with  becoming 
modesty.  "  Why  not  call  it  Camp  Calvert?  " 

"  I  think  Camp  Blank  sounds  very  nice,"  Aunt 
Betty  made  reply. 

"And  I,"  said  Dorothy.  "Let's  call  it  Camp 
Blank." 

"  No,"  said  Gerald ;  "  the  Blanks  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  This  is  Dorothy's  party.  It  shall  be 
called  Camp  Calvert." 

"  I  protest,"  said  Dorothy.  "  It's  no  more  my 
party  than  yours,  Gerald  Blank,  even  if  it  is  given 
in  honor  of  my  homecoming." 

"  It  shall  be  Camp  Calvert,"  Gerald  persisted. 

"  Well,  we'll  submit  it  to  arbitration.  Jim,  you 
have  taken  no  part  in  the  controversy.  Shall  we 
name  it  Camp  Blank  or  Camp  Calvert?  " 

"  Neither,"  said  Jim. 

"  What ! "  cried  Dorothy  and  Gerald  in  a  breath. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Jim !  "    This  from  Aunt  Betty. 


102  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  No,"  said  Jim,  "  we'll  call  it  neither.  You've 
left  the  matter  to  me,  so  we'll  call  it  Camp  Brecken- 
ridge  after  Molly,  but  we'll  make  it  Camp  '  Breck ' 
for  short." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Molly.     "  I  shan't  permit  it." 

But  Molly's  protests  were  quickly  overridden, 
and  with  the  discussion  at  an  end,  the  members  of 
the  party  went  about  the  various  tasks  they  had  set 
themselves  to  do. 

Getting  a  hand-ax  from  the  tool  box,  Gerald  took 
Jim  and  marched  off  into  the  woods,  while  Ephraim 
was  delegated  to  stay  behind  and  "  tote  "  things  for 
the  ladies. 

First,  an  imaginary  plan  was  drawn  of  the  camp 
. —  just  where  the  tents  would  go ;  where  the  camp- 
fire  should  be  to  get  the  best  draught ;  which  direc- 
tion the  breeze  was  coming  from,  so  the  tent  flaps 
might  be  left  back  at  night  for  the  comfort  of  the 
sleepers;  and  the  many  other  little  details  which  a 
woman  and  several  girls  will  always  think  of. 

By  the  time  Gerald  and  Jim  returned,  bearing 
several  tent  poles  and  an  armful  of  stakes,  all  mat- 
ters had  been  definitely  settled.  The  first  tent  was 
pitched  between  two  huge  oak  trees,  which  threw 
their  shade  for  yards  around.  The  other,  which 
was  to  house  the  boys  and  Ephraim,  was  placed  a 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  103 

short  distance  to  the  rear  in  a  clump  of  smaller 
trees,  but  within  a  few  steps  of  the  rear  of  the 
ladies'  quarters. 

Once  the  tents  were  up,  Ephraim  was  instructed 
to  kindle  a  fire,  which  he  did  very  quickly,  his  camp- 
ing experience  having  been  of  a  wide  and  varied 
nature. 

While  the  fire  was  blazing  merrily  as  if  to  wel- 
come the  campers  to  the  newly-organized  Camp 
Breck,  the  mistress  of  Bellvieu  bustled  about  in  a 
nimble  fashion  for  one  of  her  years,  directing  the 
preparation  of  the  meal. 

Molly  was  set  peeling  potatoes,  while  Dorothy 
and  Aurora  spread  the  table  cloth  in  a  level  spot 
on  the  soft  grass,  and  began  to  distribute  the  tin 
plates,  steel  knives  and  forks  and  other  utensils 
which  had  been  purchased  especially  for  the  camp. 

Soon  affairs  were  moving  merrily,  and  the  party 
sat  down  to  lunch  shortly  after  one,  half-famished 
but  happy,  little  dreaming  of  the  thrilling  adventure 
which  was  to  befall  them  ere  another  day  had 
passed. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT 

IN  the  late  afternoon,  after  the  girls  and  Aunt 
Betty  had  taken  their  naps,  Gerald  suggested  a 
jaunt  down  the  mountainside  toward  the  valley. 
The  suggestion  was  eagerly  accepted  by  Aurora, 
Dorothy,  Molly  and  Jim.  Aunt  Betty  agreed  that 
she  would  stay  with  Ephraim  to  look  after  the 
camp,  being  unable  to  do  the  climbing  which  would 
be  necessary  on  the  return. 

No  Alpine  stocks  had  been  brought,  but  Gerald 
and  Jim  again  sallied  forth  with  the  hand-ax,  the 
result  being  that  in  a  short  while  the  entire  party 
was  equipped  with  walking  sticks. 

Telling  Aunt  Betty  good-by,  and  warning 
Ephraim  not  to  stray  away  from  his  mistress  dur- 
ing their  absence,  they  soon  were  off  down  the 
pathway  leading  toward  the  village  in  the  valley. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  girls,  there's  some  class  to  this 
outing,"  said  Gerald,  who,  with  Dorothy,  led  the 
way. 

104 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  105 

Molly  and  Aurora,  with  Jim  as  escort,  were  close 
behind. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  I  have 
ever  seen,"  said  Molly.  "  The  picturesque  grand- 
eur of  the  Rockies  is  missing,  to  be  sure,  but  there 
is  something  fascinating  about  these  low,  quiet 
mountains.  It  makes  one  feel  as  if  one  could  stay 
here  forever  and  ever." 

"  Come  —  don't  get  poetical,  Molly,"  warned  Jim. 
"  This  is  a  very  modern  gathering,  and  blank  verse 
is  not  appreciated." 

"  Nothing  was  farther  from  my  thoughts  than 
blank  verse,  Jim  Barlow,  and  you  know  it ! " 

"  Sounded  like  blank  verse  to  me,"  and  Jim 
grinned. 

"  You  mustn't  blame  me  for  being  enthused  over 
such  sights  as  these.  If  you  do  not  experience  the 
same  sensation,  there  is  something  sadly  deficient  in 
your  make-up." 

"That's  right,  Molly;  rub  it  in,"  Dorothy  said, 
over  her  shoulder.  "  Jim  is  entirely  too  practical 
—  too  prosaic  —  for  this  old  world  of  ours.  We 
simply  must  have  a  little  romance  mixed  in  with  our 
other  amusements,  and  poetry  is  naturally  in- 
cluded." 

"  Hopelessly  overruled,"   murmured   Jim.     "  So 


io6  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

sorry  I  spoke.  Go  ahead,  Molly;  sing  about  the 
rocks  and  rills,  the  crags  and  —  and  — " 

"  Pills  ?  "  suggested  Aurora. 

"  Well,  anything  you  wish ;  I'm  no  poet." 

"  You're  no  poet,  and  we  all  know  it,"  hummed 
Aurora. 

"  I  dare  you  girls  to  go  as  far  as  the  village ! " 
cried  Dorothy. 

"  How  about  the  boys  ?  "  Gerald  wanted  to  know. 

"  They  are  included  in  the  dare,  of  course." 

"Well,  I'll  have  to  take  the  dare,"  said  Molly. 
"  That  village  is  too  far  for  me  to-day." 

"  Why,  it's  only  a  short  way  down  the  valley," 
Dorothy  protested. 

"  It's  several  miles,  at  least,"  said  Jim. 

"  Oh,  come !  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  distances  are  very  deceptive  in  this 
part  of  the  country." 

Dorothy  could  not  be  convinced,  so  the  others 
decided  to  keep  on  until  the  girl  realized  that  she 
had  misjudged  the  distance,  and  asked  to  turn  back. 

They  did  not  know  Dorothy  Calvert. 

The  path  led  down  the  mountainside  and  into  a 
broad  road  which  followed  the  bank  of  a  stream. 
Somehow,  when  this  point  was  reached,  the  vil- 
lage seemed  no  nearer. 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  107 

Dorothy  uttered  no  protest,  however.  But  the 
ethers  exchanged  glances,  as  if  to  say : 

"  Well,  I  wonder  will  she  ever  get  enough  ?  " 

On  they  went  till  at  last,  at  a  great  bend  in  the 
road,  where  lay  a  fallen  log,  Molly  stopped  for  a 
rest. 

"  You  folks  can  go  on,"  said  she,  seating  her- 
self on  the  fallen  tree.  "  I'll  wait  here  and  go  back 
with  you." 

"  And  I,"  said  Aurora,  dropping  down  beside  her. 

"  Guess  those  are  my  sentiments,  too,"  drawled 
Jim,  as  he  languidly  sat  down  beside  the  girls. 

"  Well,"  said  Gerald,  "  after  our  journey  this 
morning,  and  the  work  I  did  in  camp,  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  want  any  village  in  mine,  either." 

And  he,  too,  sat  down. 

Dorothy  stood  gazing  at  her  friends,  an  amused 
expression  on  her  face. 

"  I  suppose  if  the  majority  vote  is  to  be  listened 
to,  I  lose,"  she  said.  "  I  thought  you  all  were 
mountain  climbers,  and  great  believers  in  exercise 
on  a  large  scale.  But  I  see  I  was  mistaken.  I 
yield  to  the  rule  of  the  majority ;  we  will  not  go  to 
the  village  to-day." 

Dorothy  sat  down.  As  she  did  so,  the  others 
burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 


io8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  anything  so  funny,"  she  said. 
"  But  perhaps  that  is  because  I  am  lacking  a  sense 
of  humor." 

"No,  it's  not  that,"  said  Gerald.  "We  are 
laughing  to  see  how  stubbornly  you  give  up  a  little 
whim.  Nobody  wanted  to  go  to  the  village  but  you, 
yet  you  insisted  that  everyone  go." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that  like  you  took  it,  at 
all,  Gerald,"  protested  the  girl,  a  slight  flush  creep- 
ing over  her  face. 

"  We  felt  that,  hence,  knowing  it  could  give  you 
no  real  pleasure  to  go  farther,  and  tire  yourself 
and  ourselves  completely  out,  so  that  we  would  have 
to  hire  a  conveyance  to  get  back  to  camp,  we  de- 
cided to  rebel,  and  stay  here." 

"  I  imagine  the  fishing  is  good  in  this  neighbor- 
hood," said  Molly,  who  was  looking  out  over  the 
stream  where  the  water  ran  gently  between  the 
rocks.  It  was  as  clear  as  glass,  and  the  fish  could 
be  seen  swimming  about. 

"  They  catch  a  great  many  trout  in  these 
mountains,  I've  heard,"  said  Jim.  "  Say  we  get 
some  poles  and  try  our  luck  before  we  go  back, 
eh,  Gerald?" 

"  Surely,"  responded  the  person  addressed.  "  I 
brought  plenty  of  fishing  tackle  in  the  big  chest  on 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  109 

the  back  of  the  machine.  I  have  also  four  poles 
in  sections,  each  fitted  with  a  fine  reel  and  silk  line. 
I  wouldn't  come  on  a  camping  trip  like  this  without 
having  a  try  at  the  fish,  I  assure  you." 

When  the  party  had  rested  sufficiently,  the  climb 
back  to  camp  was  begun,  and  even  Dorothy  was 
thankful  that  they  had  not  gone  to  the  village,  real- 
izing the  truth  of  Gerald's  words,  that  they  would 
have  needed  a  conveyance  to  get  them  back  to  their 
starting  point. 

It  was  late  afternoon  when  they  reached  the 
camp,  to  find  that  Aunt  Betty  and  Ephraim  had 
supper  on  the  fire.  And  a  fine  supper  it  was,  too  — 
fine  for  camp  life.  When  it  was  spread  on  the 
ground  before  them  a  short  time  later,  they  de- 
voured it  ravenously,  which  pleased  Aunt  Betty 
immensely,  for  she  loved  to  see  young  folks  eat. 

The  meal  over  and  the  things  cleared  away,  the 
young  folks  and  Aunt  Betty  gathered  before  the 
ladies'  tent  where  a  fine  view  of  the  valley  could 
be  obtained,  and  for  some  little  time  were  silent,  as 
the  wonderful  glories  of  Mother  Nature  unfolded 
themselves.  Before  they  realized  it,  almost,  the 
day  was  gone  —  their  first  day  in  camp  —  and  night 
was  upon  them.  A  gray  light,  mingling  with  the 
faint  afterglow  of  twilight,  showed  clearly  the  out- 


no  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

lines  of  the  distant  mountains.  The  stars  blinked 
down  from  their  heavenly  dome  and  the  air  was 
cool  and  comfortable,  thanks  to  the  altitude.  To 
the  silent  watchers  it  seemed  that  no  skies  were  ever 
so  deep  and  clear  as  those  which  overspread  Camp 
Breck. 

"  It  would  seem,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  breaking  a 
long  silence,  "  that  in  making  the  stars,  nature  was 
bent  on  atoning  in  the  firmament  for  a  lack  of  beauty 
and  brilliancy  on  the  earth." 

"  How  like  the  Gates  of  Wonderland  I  read  about 
when  a  wee  child  are  these  hills  on  such  a  night," 
said  Dorothy  reverently. 

"  Stop ! "  warned  Molly.  "If  you  don't,  Jim 
will  soon  be  chiding  you  for  becoming  poetic." 

"  No ;  this  is  different,  somehow,"  said  the  boy. 
"  It  has  gotten  into  my  blood.  I  feel  much  as 
Dorothy  does  —  a  sensation  I've  never  experienced 
before,  though  I've  traveled  through  the  Catskills 
till  I  know  them  like  a  book.  Even  the  Rockies 
did  not  appeal  to  me  in  this  way." 

"  It  is  not  the  environment,  but  the  viewpoint, 
Jim,"  Aunt  Betty  said.  "  The  nights  in  the  Cat- 
skills  are  just  as  beautiful  as  here;  it  happens  that 
you  have  never  thought  of  the  wonders  of  nature 
in  quite  the  same  way  in  which  you  have  had  them 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  in 

brought  home  to  you  to-night.  I  daresay  you  will 
never  spend  another  night  in  any  mountains,  how- 
ever, without  thinking  of  the  transcendent  beauty 
of  it  all." 

"  There  is  something  in  the  air  that  makes  me 
feel  like  singing,"  said  Gerald. 

"  Then  by  all  means  indulge  yourself,"  Dorothy 
advised. 

"  Let's  form  a  quartette,"  said  Molly.  "  I  can 
sing  a  fair  alto." 

"  And  I  can't  sing  anything  —  can't  even  carry  an 
air,"  Aurora  put  in  in  a  regretful  voice.  "  But 
Gerald  has  a  fine  tenor  voice,  and  perhaps  Dorothy 
can  take  the  soprano  and  Jim  the  bass." 

In  this  way  it  was  arranged,  Dorothy  being  ap- 
pointed leader. 

"  First  of  all,  what  shall  we  sing?  "  she  wanted  to 
know. 

"  Oh,  any  old  thing,"  said  Jim. 

"  No ;  not  any  old  thing.  It  must  be  something 
with  which  we  are  all  familiar." 

"  Well,  let's  make  it  a  medley  of  old  Southern 
songs,"  suggested  Gerald. 

"An  excellent  idea,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  while 
Ephraim  was  so  delighted  at  the  suggestion  that 
he  clapped  his  hands  in  the  wildest  enthusiasm. 


ji2  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

So  Dorothy,  carrying  the  air,  started  off  into 
"  The  Old  Folks  At  Home." 

Never,  thought  Aunt  Betty,  had  the  old  tune 
sounded  so  beautiful,  as,  with  those  clear  young 
voices  ringing  out  on  the  still  air  of  the  summer's 
night,  and  when  the  last  words, 

Way  down  upon  the  Suwanee  River, 
Far  from  the  old  folks  at  home, 

had  died  away,  she  was  ready  and  eager  for  more. 
"Old  Black  Joe,"  followed,  then  "Dixie,"  and 
finally  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  that  classic  whose 
luster  time  never  has  or  never  will  dim,  and  which 
brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes  as  it  brought  back 
recollections  of  childhood  days. 

Then,  as  if  to  mingle  gayety  with  sadness,  Eph- 
raim  was  induced  to  execute  a  few  of  his  choicest 
steps  on  a  hard,  bare  spot  of  ground  under  one  of 
the  big  oak  trees,  while  Jim  and  Gerald  whistled 
"  Turkey  in  the  Straw,"  and  kept  time  with  their 
hands.  The  old  negro's  agility  was  surprising,  his 
legs  and  feet  being  as  nimble,  apparently,  as  when, 
years  before  as  a  young  colored  lad,  he  had  gone 
through  practically  the  same  performance  for  Aunt 
Betty,  then  in  the  flower  of  her  young  womanhood. 

After  this  the  party  sought  the  tents,  where,  on 
blankets  spread  on  the  ground,  covered  by  sheets, 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  113 

and  with  rough  pillows  under  their  heads,  each 
member  of  the  party  sought  repose. 

In  one  end  of  the  tent  occupied  by  Gerald  and 
Jim  slept  old  Ephraim,  the  watch-dog  of  the  camp, 
who  prided  himself  that  no  suspicious  sound,  how- 
ever slight,  could  escape  his  keen  ears  in  the  night 
time. 

The  slumber  of  the  party  was  undisturbed  dur- 
ing the  early  hours  of  the  night,  as,  with  the  tent 
flaps  thrown  back,  to  allow  the  clear  passage  of  the 
cool  breeze  off  the  valley,  the  occupants  of  both 
tents  slept  soundly. 

Sometime  after  midnight,  however,  the  slumber 
of  all  was  broken  by  a  most  startling  incident. 
It  was  a  cry  of  distress  coming  out  of  the  night 
from  farther  down  the  mountainside  —  a  cry  so 
appealing  in  its  pathos  that  Ephraim  was  on  his 
feet,  listening  with  open  mouth,  before  the  echoes 
had  died  away.  Then,  as  he  roused  Gerald  and 
Jim,  the  cry  came  again,  reverberating  over  the 
mountain  in  trembling,  piteous  tones : 

"  Oh,  help  me !  Help  me !  Won't  someone 
please  help  me?  Oh,  oh-h-h-h !  " 

The  last  exclamation,  drawn  out  in  a  mourn- 
ful wail  sent  a  thrill  of  pity  through  the  hearts 
of  the  old  negro  and  the  boys. 


114  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Dorothy  heard  the  second  cry,  and  she,  too,  felt 
the  appeal  of  the  voice,  as  she  awakened  the  other 
inmates  of  the  tent. 

The  cry  came  again  at  short  intervals. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  "  someone  asked. 

"  Sounds  to  me  like  someone's  lost  their  way," 
said  Jim,  as  he  and  Gerald  stood  listening  out- 
side their  tent. 

"  Oh,  Lordy !  Mayhe  it's  er  ghost ! "  wailed 
Ephraim,  whose  superstitious  fears  the  passing 
years  had  failed  to  dislodge.  "  Dat  suah  sound 
tuh  me  like  de  cry  ob  er  lost  soul." 

"  Nonsense !  "  cried  Gerald.  "  There's  no  such 
thing  as  a  lost  soul.  And  stop  that  sort  of  talk, 
.Ephy.  No  matter  what  you  think,  there's  no  use 
scaring  the  women." 

"What  are  you  boys  going  to  do?"  asked 
Dorothy,  peeking  out  from  behind  the  flap  of  her 
tent. 

"  There's  only  one  thing  to  do,  when  a  voice 
appeals  to  you  like  that  —  investigate,"  said  Jim. 

"  Yes ;  we  must  find  out  who  it  is,"  Gerald 
readily  agreed. 

"  But  you  boys  mustn't  venture  down  the  moun- 
tainside alone,"  said  Aurora.  "  No  telling  what 
will  happen  to  you.  No,  no;  you  stay  here  and 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  115 

answer  the  voice.  Then  maybe  the  person  will  be 
able  to  find  his  way  to  the  camp." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  we  want  him  in  camp,"  said 
Aunt  Betty,  grimly. 

"  Well,  the  least  we  can  do  is  meet  him  half 
way,"  was  Jim's  final  decision. 

Dorothy,  who  knew  the  boy,  felt  that  further 
argument  would  be  useless,  particularly  as  Gerald 
seemed  to  agree  with  everything  Jim  said. 

"  But  you  have  no  revolvers,"  protested  Aurora. 
"  It  is  nothing  short  of  suicide  to  venture  off  into 
the  darkness  unarmed." 

"  That's  right ;  we  didn't  think  to  bring  any 
fire-arms  with  us,"  Gerald  said,  turning  to  Jim. 
"  But  we'd  have  a  hard  time  finding  anything  to 
shoot  in  the  dark,  so  I  reckon  we  may  as  well  get 
a  couple  of  stout  clubs  and  see  who  that  fellow 
is." 

Two  poles  that  had  been  found  too  short  for 
the  purpose  of  erecting  the  tents  lay  near  at  hand, 
and  searching  these  out,  the  boys  bade  Ephraim 
not  to  leave  the  women  under  any  circumstances 
and  started  down  the  side  of  the  mountain  in  the 
direction  from  whence  the  cries  had  come. 

"  Help,  help ! "  came  the  voice  again,  like  a  per- 
son in  mortal  terror. 


n6  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Hello,  hello !  "  Jim  responded,  in  his  deep  bass] 
voice  which  went  echoing  and  re-echoing  down  the 
valley.  "  Where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Here !  "  came  the  quick  response.  "  Come  to 
me !  Hurry !  Hurry !  " 

"  Have  patience  and  keep  calling ;  we're  moving 
in  your  direction.  We'll  find  you,"  replied  Jim 
in  an  encouraging  tone. 

At  short  intervals  the  voice  came  floating  up  to 
them,  getting  louder  and  louder,  until  it  seemed 
but  a  few  yards  away.  The  boys  realized,  how- 
ever, that  voices  carry  a  great  distance  on  a  clear 
night,  hence  knew  that  they  had  not  yet  achieved 
the  object  of  their  search. 

Grasping  their  clubs  tightly,  they  worked  their 
way  through  the  underbrush.  The  trees  were 
scattered  in  places,  letting  a  few  beams  of  moon- 
light seep  through,  though  the  dark  shadows  were 
deceptive  and  no  objects  could  be  distinguished 
beyond  their  bare  outlines. 

Soon,  however,  they  were  in  close  proximity  to 
the  voice,  which  appeared  to  be  that  of  a  young 
boy.  Then,  suddenly,  as  Jim  called  out  again  in  an 
encouraging  tone  to  know  whom  they  were  address- 
ing, a  form  came  staggering  toward  him  out  of 
the  shadows,  and  someone  grabbed  him  in  frenzied 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  117 

madness,  while  great  heart-rending  sobs  shook 
his  frame. 

Startled  at  first,  Jim  realized  that  this  was 
caused  by  fright,  so  instead  of  casting  the  person 
away  as  his  instinct  seemed  to  bid  him,  he  threw 
his  arms  about  the  trembling  form  and  tried  to 
distinguish  in  the  darkness  who  and  what  he  was. 

What  he  felt  caused  a  great  feeling  of  pity  to 
surge  over  him;  for  his  hands  encountered  the 
slight  form  of  a  young  lad,  not  more  than  twelve 
years  old.  Jim  was  astonished,  and  readily  per- 
ceived why  one  so  young  should  be  racked  with  ter- 
ror at  being  alone  on  the  mountainside  in  the  dead 
of  night. 

"  There,  there,"  he  said ;  "  don't  cry.  It's  all 
right.  You're  with  friends."  He  turned  to  Ger- 
ald: "It's  nothing  but  a  boy.  Scared  most  to 
death,  I  suppose." 

"  What,  a  boy,  and  alone  on  the  mountain  at 
this  hour?" 

"  Strange,  but  true." 

"  I  don't  understand  it." 

"  Neither  do  I.  I  suppose  he's  lost,  or  has  run 
away  from  home.  In  either  case,  the  best  we  can 
do  is  to  get  to  camp  with  him  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble." 


Ii8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Jim  tried  to  draw  the  lad  out  —  to  get  him  to 
tell  something  of  himself,  but  his  only  answer  was 
more  sobs,  as  the  lad  still  quivered  from  fright. 

"  Well,  are  you  alone  ?  "  Jim  asked. 

There  was  a  hastily  murmured : 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  with  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes  —  don't  1-1-leave  m-m-me  alone 
again ! " 

"  We'll  not  leave  you  alone.  We  have  a  camp 
near  here  and  you're  more  than  welcome." 

Gerald  led  the  way  back  up  the  mountainside, 
Jim,  his  arm  supporting  the  little  fellow  at  his 
side,  following  as  rapidly  as  the  rough  going  would 
permit. 

It  was  no  easy  matter,  getting  back  to  camp, 
as  they  quickly  discovered.  As  a  matter  of  caution, 
of  course,  those  at  the  camp  would  not  allow  any 
lights,  so  the  boys  were  forced  to  pick  their  way 
through  the  woods  with  only  the  stars  and  a  partly- 
obscured  moon  to  guide  them. 

The  descent  had  been  comparatively  easy,  but 
this  was  almost  more  than  human  endurance 
could  stand.  Several  times  great  rocks  impeded 
their  progress  and  they  were  forced  to  go  around 
them.  They  paused  frequently  to  rest  on  account 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  119 

of  the  young  boy,  who  seemed  all  but  exhausted. 
The  frightened  lad  continued  his  sobbing  at  inter- 
vals, his  body  shaking  like  one  with  the  ague.  He 
refused  to  talk,  however,  save  to  respond  to  an 
occasional  question  in  a  monosyllable. 

"Is  that  the  camp,  do  you  suppose?"  Gerald 
inquired,  suddenly,  after  they  had  climbed  what 
seemed  an  interminable  distance. 

Jim,  following  the  motion  of  his  arm,  saw  a 
bright  patch  of  light;  but  as  he  looked  this  re- 
solved itself  into  sky.  Concealing  their  disappoint- 
ment, they  continued  the  ascent. 

At  times  they  were  almosr  tempted  to  cry  out, 
but  thoughts  of  the  boy,  and  the  fear  that  he  had 
not  been  alone  on  the  mountain,  caused  them  to 
refrain. 

Finally,  they  reached  the  road  by  which  that 
morning  they  had  come  upon  the  mountain.  Now, 
at  least,  they  were  able  to  get  their  bearings,  for  the 
mountain  to  the  east,  the  first  one  they  had  ascended 
after  leaving  the  foothills  in  the  auto,  loomed  up 
sentinel-like,  through  the  moonlight. 

Forming  their  impressions  by  their  distance  from 
this  mountain,  the  boys  decided  that  they  were 
nearly  half  a  mile  from  camp. 

"  Just  think  of  all  the  climb  we  wasted,"  said 


120  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Jim.  "  We  might  have  been  at  camp  twenty 
minutes  ago  had  we  been  able  to  keep  in  the  right 
direction." 

"  Well,  one  thing  is  sure,"  Gerald  responded ; 
"  we'll  be  able  to  find  it  now." 

They  set  off  down  the  road,  which,  being  com- 
posed of  sand,  was  plainly  visible  in  the  moon- 
light, in  spite  of  the  deep  shadows  thrown  by  the 
trees  on  either  side. 

Some  moments  later  they  made  out  the  tents. 
This  time  there  was  no  mistake,  for,  as  they 
listened,  they  heard  the  murmur  of  voices.  The 
girls  and  Aunt  Betty  were  no  doubt  discussing  their 
protracted  absence.  Probably  suspecting  that  some 
harm  had  come  to  the  boys  they  were  afraid  to 
make  their  presence  known,  and  were  talking  in 
low,  guarded  tones. 

"  Camp  ahoy !  "  cried  Gerald,  suddenly. 

Then  everyone  screamed,  and  there  was  a 
scramble  to  strike  a  light,  as  they  all  crowded 
around  the  boys  with  eager  questions.  Ephy 
struck  a  light  and  by  its  fitful  glare  the  girls  saw 
the  pale  face  of  the  lad  Jim  and  Gerald  had  found 
on  the  mountain. 

"  Here's  the  result  of  our  trip,"  said  Jim,  as  he 
led  his  burden  forward. 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  121 

"  In  heaven's  name !  "  cried  Aunt  Betty.  "  Who 
have  you  there,  Jim  Barlow  ?  " 

"  Ask  me  something  easy,  Aunt  Betty.  We 
found  him  alone  on  the  mountain,  half  scared  to 
death.  He  won't  talk.  He's  been  hysterical  all  the 
way  back.  Perhaps  after  a  good  night's  rest  he  will 
be  able  to  tell  us  who  he  is  and  where  he  came 
from." 

"  You  poor  boy !  "  cried  the  sympathetic  Dorothy. 

Then,  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  she  threw  her 
arms  about  his  neck  and  drew  him  to  her  —  an 
action  which  the  lad  seemed  in  no  way  to  resent. 

The  story  of  their  adventure  told,  Gerald  and 
Jim  again  sought  their  sleeping  quarters,  taking 
their  newly-found  friend  with  them. 

Before  they  went  to  sleep  they  induced  him  to 
tell  his  name,  which  was  Len  Haley.  When  they 
pressed  him  to  know  how  he  came  to  be  alone  so 
far  from  home,  he  shook  his  head  and  his  lip 
trembled.  That,  he  said,  he  would  tell  them  in 
the  morning. 

Fixing  a  comfortable  place  for  him,  the  boys 
waited  until  he  was  sound  asleep,  before  again 
closing  their  own  eyes.  Then,  tired  from  the  exer- 
tions of  the  day  and  night,  they,  too,  dropped  off 
to  sleep,  to  the  tune  of  old  Ephraim's  snores. 


CHAPTER  VII 

UNWELCOME  VISITORS 

WHILE  gathered  about  the  breakfast  table  —  if 
table,  it  could  be  called  —  the  next  morning,  the 
campers  heard  the  boy's  story.  Len  Haley  had  by 
this  time  thoroughly  recovered  from  his  fright,  and 
he  related  in  a  timid,  halting  fashion  how  he  had 
come  to  be  alone  on  the  mountain  in  the  dead  of 
night. 

An  orphan,  living  with  his  uncle,  James  Haley, 
near  the  little  village  of  Armsdale  in  the  valley, 
he  had  worked  for  years  in  a  truck  garden. 
Neither  James  Haley  or  his  wife  had  experienced 
any  affection  for  the  lad,  but  seemed  bent  only  upon 
making  him  carry  on  his  young  shoulders  the 
burden  of  running  their  little  farm. 

Len,  a  willing  worker,  had  accepted  his  lot  as 
a  matter  of  course.  But  when  the  hours  grew 
longer,  and  he  was  forced  to  rise  before  daylight 
to  milk  the  cows  and  feed  the  horses,  and  was  not 
allowed  to  retire  until  the  same  services  had  been 
performed  late  at  night,  with  hours  of  drudgery  in 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  123 

the  field,  during  the  intervening  time,  he  had  re- 
belled, only  to  be  soundly  beaten  by  his  uncle,  and 
told  to  return  to  his  work  under  the  penalty  of 
being  beaten  till  he  was  black  and  blue. 

The  boy  had  stood  this  as  long  as  he  could. 
Then  he  resolved  to  run  away.  He  kept  this 
purpose  to  himself,  however,  waiting  for  the 
proper  opportunity  to  present  itself. 

The  previous  night  James  Haley  had  gone  to 
the  village  about  eight  o'clock.  Mrs.  Haley  was 
feeling  badly,  and  it  was  necessary  to  fill  a  pre- 
scription at  the  drug  store.  Why  Len  was  not 
selected  for  this  mission  he  could  not  imagine,  for 
usually  his  uncle  took  a  keen  delight  in  rousing  him 
out  of  bed  at  all  hours  of  the  night. 

It  had  seemed  to  the  boy  to  be  an  omen  in  his 
favor.  James  Haley  apparently  believed  him  to  be 
asleep  at  the  time  of  his  departure  for  the  village. 
The  boy  had  really  gone  to  bed,  but  lay  there 
thoroughly  dressed.  Soon  after  his  uncle  left  the 
farm,  the  boy  had  crept  softly  down  the  stairs  in 
his  stocking  feet,  then  out  of  the  house.  Putting 
on  his  shoes  out  by  the  barn  he  had  immediately 
struck  out  for  the  mountains,  not  realizing  what  a 
terrible  thing  it  was  for  a  boy  to  be  alone  in  the 
woods  in  the  night  time. 


124  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

When  finally  this  realization  was  brought  home 
to  him,  he  became  frightened.  But  he  gritted  his 
teeth,  resolved  not  to  turn  back.  He  knew  full 
well  that  the  beatings  he  had  received  in  the 
past  would  be  as  nothing  compared  to  what  the 
future  would  hold  in  store,  if  James  Haley  ever 
laid  hands  on  him  again. 

He  wandered  on  up  the  mountainside  as  the  hour 
grew  late,  until,  driven  almost  into  hysterics  by  the 
dreadful  lonesomeness  about  him,  he  had  cried  out 
for  help,  hoping,  he  said,  to  attract  the  attention 
of  some  people  he  knew  lived  in  this  vicinity. 

The  first  response  to  his  cries  had  been  Jim's 
"  Hello ! "  So  overjoyed  was  Len  at  hearing  a 
human  voice  again  that  he  had  come  near  fainting. 

Now  that  the  dreadful  trip  was  a  thing  of  the 
past,  and  the  boy  had  an  opportunity  to  think  calmly 
over  the  matter,  he  feared  that  his  cries  had  been 
heard  in  the  valley,  and  it  would  be  only  the  ques- 
tion of  a  few  hours  until  his  uncle  would  be  search- 
ing the  mountain. 

The  sympathies  of  the  entire  party,  particularly 
those  of  Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty,  were  with  the 
unfortunate  boy,  and  what  action  was  to  be  taken 
to  keep  him  out  of  his  uncle's  hands  was  to  all  a 
pertinent  question. 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  125 

"  Don't  let  them  take  me  back  there,"  Len  begged, 
while  they  were  discussing  the  matter.  "  I'd 
rather  die  —  honest  to  goodness,  I  would !  " 

"  Oh,  we  just  can't  let  you  go  back,"  was  Aunt 
Betty's  rather  grim  resolve.  "  It's  against  all  the 
principles  of  human  nature  to  stand  by  and  see  a 
young  boy  like  you  abused.  You  shall  stay  with 
us,  Len;  you  shall  be  under  our  protection.  We'll 
find  some  way  to  circumvent  your  uncle  and  keep 
you  out  of  his  hands." 

Tears  came  into  the  boy's  eyes,  and  he  flashed  her 
a  look  of  gratitude. 

"  We  might  take  Len  back  to  Baltimore  with  us 
and  find  him  a  position,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  There  is  enough  work  at  Bellvieu  alone  to  keep 
him  busy  for  many  months,"  returned  Aunt  Betty. 
"  Ephraim  is  getting  old,  and  Metty  is  occupied  with 
the  care  of  the  horses  and  cattle.  Len  shall  be  our 
yard  boy  for  a  while,  if  he  desires." 

Len  did  desire,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  so  express 
himself.  He  would  work  hard  for  Mrs.  Calvert,  he 
said,  until  he  was  old  enough  to  strike  out  for 
himself. 

This  part  of  the  matter  was  soon  settled  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all.  It  was  then  decided  that  Len 
should  remain  in  the  seclusion  of  one  of  the  tents 


126  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

during  the  day,  so  that  he  would  be  out  of  sight 
from  anyone  approaching  Camp  Breck  from  either 
direction.  Aurora  had  brought  a  bundle  of  reading 
matter,  including  several  illustrated  papers,  and 
these  were  placed  at  Len's  disposal.  The  boy  had 
had  several  years  of  schooling  previous  to  the  death 
of  his  parents,  and  was  a  fair  reader.  Like  most 
boys  who  have  been  restrained  through  one  cause 
or  another  from  reading  all  the  books  they  desired, 
he  was  ready  and  anxious  to  devour  anything  that 
came  his  way. 

Jim  and  Gerald  put  their  heads  together,  and  re- 
solved to  circumvent  James  Haley  should  he  ap- 
pear on  the  scene  in  search  of  Len. 

"  We'll  lead  him  away  from  the  camp,"  said  Jim, 
"  without  telling  him  any  deliberate  untruths  — 
send  him  off  on  a  false  scent.  Aunt  Betty  is  right, 
you  know ;  we  can't  let  him  go  back  to  a  life  like 
that." 

"  No,"  said  Gerald ;  "  it  would  be  a  pity.  If  his 
uncle's  treatment  was  bad  enough  to  make  Len  take 
to  the  mountains  in  the  night  time,  it  must  have  been 
at  least  a  mild  sort  of  an  inquisition." 

The  boys  congratulated  themselves  later  on  plan- 
ning matters  out  in  advance,  for  the  forenoon  was 
barely  half  gone  when  two  horsemen  rode  out  of 


127 

the  woods  to  the  south  of  the  camp  and  turned  their 
horses  in  the  direction  of  the  tents. 

Jim  was  the  first  to  see  them. 

"  Don't  be  startled,  folks,"  he  said,  "  and  please 
don't  turn  and  '  rubber,'  for  there  are  two  men 
coming  toward  camp  on  horseback." 

"  Oh !  "  gasped  Molly.    "  Poor  Len !  " 

"  Poor  Len,  nothing !  "  Jim  returned.  "  I  know  it 
is  hard  for  a  girl  to  refrain  from  doing  some- 
thing she's  been  asked  not  to,  but  if  you  turn  your 
head,  Molly  Breckenridge,  or  let  on  in  any  way  that 
you've  seen  those  horsemen,  you  need  never  call 
me  your  friend  again.  We  must  act  like  we  haven't 
seen  them,  until  they  hail  us.  Ephraim,  you  sneak 
into  the  tent,  without  looking  to  the  right  or  the 
left.  Then  hide  Len  under  the  cots  or  somewhere 
where  they  won't  find  him.  Gerald  and  I  will  talk 
to  the  men  when  they  arrive." 

The  girls  and  Aunt  Betty  kept  their  presence  of 
mind  very  well,  considering  the  fact  that  they  were 
laboring  under  no  little  excitement. 

Ephraim  went  carelessly  into  the  tent,  as  Jim  had 
bade  him,  where  he  concealed  the  runaway  lad  in  a 
very  natural  manner  under  a  heavy  quilt.  It  mat- 
tered not  that  the  weather  was  excessively  warm 
this  time  of  day;  the  old  negro  figured  that  the 


J2&  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

exigencies  of  the  case  demanded  desperate  meas- 
ures, and  as  for  Len,  he  accepted  his  punishment 
without  a  whimper. 

By  the  time  the  men  had  drawn  rein  before  the 
tents,  Ephraim  was  sitting  calmly  in  a  chair,  an 
illustrated  paper  in  his  hand,  puffing  complacently 
at  his  pipe. 

"  Good  morning,"  greeted  the  larger  of  the  two 
men. 

"  Good  morning,"  returned  Jim,  pleasantly. 
Then  he  and  Gerald  went  forward  to  meet  them. 

One  of  the  riders,  a  rather  pompous-looking  in- 
dividual, with  a  long,  drooping  mustache,  dis- 
mounted and  threw  the  reins  over  his  horse's 
head. 

"  I'm  Sheriff  Dundon  of  this  county,  boys,"  he 
Said.  "The  gentleman  with  me  is  Mr.  Haley. 
We're  searching  for  a  boy  named  Len  Haley  — 
Mr.  Haley's  nephew,  in  fact.  He  left  his  home 
down  in  the  valley  some  time  in  the  night.  We 
thought  perhaps  you'd  seen  him." 

Jim  and  Gerald  exchanged  feigned  glances  of  sur- 
prise, which  was  part  of  the  plan  they  had  mapped 
out  to  save  Len. 

"  It  must  have  been  him  we  heard  cry  out  in  the 
night,"  said  Jim. 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  129 

"  Yes,"  Gerald  responded.  "  Too  bad  we  didn't 
know  it  was  only  a  boy." 

"  You  heard  someone  cry  out  in  the  night,  then  ?  " 
the  sheriff  asked,  while  the  man  on  the  horse  eyed 
them  keenly,  and  flashed  curious  glances  about  the 
camp. 

"  Why,  yes,"  Jim  returned ;  "  Old  Ephraim,  our 
darkey,  woke  us  up  in  the  night  to  hear  some 
mournful  noises  which  he  said  came  from  some- 
where down  the  mountainside.  We  listened  and 
heard  someone  crying  out  at  intervals  for  help. 
But  having  no  firearms,  and  not  knowing  whether 
it  was  a  drunken  man  or  a  lunatic,  we  were  afraid 
to  venture  very  far  away  from  camp." 

"What  time  was  this?" 

"  Must  have  been  in  the  neighborhood  of  two 
o'clock." 

The  sheriff  shot  a  questioning  glance  at  Mr. 
Haley. 

"  It  was  Len ;  no  doubt  about  it,"  said  that  wor- 
thy, nodding.  "He's  only  a  kid  and  I  s'pose  he 
got  scared  when  he  found  himself  alone  in  the 
dark." 

"  You  don't  know  which  way  he  was  going  at 
that  time  ?  "  asked  the  sheriff,  turning  again  to  the 
boys. 


130  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  It  would  be  hard  to  say.  At  one  time  the  cries 
Seemed  to  be  nearer,  then  got  farther,  and  finally 
ceased  altogether.  We  all  heard  them,  including 
the  ladies,  and  none  of  us  went  back  to  bed  until 
everything  was  quiet." 

"  Let's  see,"  said  the  sheriff ;  "  I  didn't  quite  catch 
your  names." 

"Mine's  Jim  Barlow.  This  is  Gerald  Blank. 
We're  members  of  a  camping  party  from  Baltimore. 
We  arrived  in  the  mountains  yesterday  morning 
for  a  two  weeks'  stay." 

"Blank?"  repeated  the  sheriff.  "Blank?  Any 
relation  to  Blank,  the  broker  ?  " 

"  He's  my  father,"  said  Gerald. 

"  That  so  ?  Then  I'm  right  glad  to  meet  you." 
The  sheriff  extended  a  horny  hand,  which  Gerald 
shook.  "  I  knew  him  years  ago.  Didn't  realize  he 
had  a  boy  as  old  as  you.  Well,  we  must  be  getting 
on.  Sorry  you  can't  give  us  a  clue  to  the  boy's 
whereabouts." 

"It  is  too  bad,"  said  Gerald.  "When  we  last 
heard  the  cries  they  came  from  about  that  direc- 
tion," and  he  extended  his  finger  down  the  moun- 
tainside. "  Then  they  grew  fainter  and  seemed  to 
be  moving  off  to  the  east.  We'd  like  very  much 
to  help  you,  sheriff.  If  we'd  any  idea  it  was  only 


"  I  AM  SHERIFF  OF  THIS  COUNTY." 

"Dorothy  Triumph.  " 


a  boy,  and  a  scapegoat,  at  that,  we  could  have  caught 
and  held  him  until  your  arrival." 

"  Well,  I  could  hardly  expect  that,"  returned  the 
minion  of  the  law,  with  a  good-natured  smile. 
"  Come,  Haley,  let's  be  off.  He  can't  have  gone 
far  between  midnight  and  now,  so  we're  apt  to  over- 
haul him  at  some  of  the  farm  houses  up  the  valley. 
Good-by,  boys  —  see  you  later !  " 

The  men  tipped  their  hats  to  the  ladies  out  of 
courtesy  for  their  presence,  and  rode  away. 

"  Hope  they  don't  see  us  later,"  said  Jim,  as  he 
stood  with  Gerald  gazing  after  their  receding  forms. 

"  No ;  for  he  might  catch  us  at  an  inopportune 
moment.  If  they  ever  found  Len  in  our  camp 
there'd  be  the  very  dickens  to  pay." 

"  Couldn't  do  anything  to  us,  Gerald,  and  I  don't 
believe  he'd  have  any  right  to  take  Len,  unless 
there's  some  papers  filed  in  the  court  of  this  county, 
appointing  James  Haley  his  guardian.  Just  merely 
because  he's  an  orphan  don't  give  a  man  a  right 
to  take  him  and  hold  him  against  his  will  —  even 
if  he  is  his  uncle." 

"  Boys,  I  really  must  congratulate  you  on  your 
presence  of  mind,"  said  Dorothy,  when  the  riders 
had  disappeared  from  view.  "  You  handled  the 
matter  perfectly.  Wait  till  I  tell  Ephraim  to  let 


132  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Len  come  out  from  under  cover,"  and  she  left  them 
to  enter  the  tent. 

Len  was  nearly  roasted  when  he  emerged  from 
beneath  the  quilt,  for  the  weather  was  excessively 
warm  and  his  clothes  were  not  as  thin  as  they  might 
have  been.  But  he  was  smiling  bravely  through 
the  perspiration,  and  rejoiced  with  the  others  that 
he  had  been  so  lucky  as  to  escape  being  returned  to 
captivity. 

"  I  don't  understand  how  my  uncle  ever  influ- 
enced the  sheriff  to  help  him  hunt  for  me,"  he  said. 
"  I  know  Sheriff  Dundon,  and  he's  a  mighty  good 
man.  He  knows  very  well  the  way  I  was  treated, 
so  Uncle  James  must  have  pulled  the  wool  over  his 
eyes  some  way.  Well,  I  reckon  it  don't  matter 
much  now.  They're  gone  and  I  hope  they'll  never 
come  back." 

"  It  won't  do  to  take  any  chances,  yet,  Len," 
said  Aunt  Betty.  "  You'll  have  to  spend  most  of 
your  time  in  the  tent,  with  someone  constantly  on 
watch  outside.  It  will  be  pretty  hard  on  you,  but 
better  than  going  back  to  the  life  you  ^t." 

"  I  don't  mind  in  the  least,  Mrs.  Calvert  —  stay- 
ing in  the  tent,  I  mean.  I'd  do  anything  to  escape 
my  uncle.  He's  certainly  the  meanest  man  on 
earth." 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  133 

Aunt  Betty's  plan  was  followed  during  the  next 
few  days,  but  neither  Sheriff  Dundon  or  James 
Haley  put  in  a  further  appearance  at  the  camp. 
Aunt  Betty  cautioned  Len,  however,  to  keep  out 
of  sight  until  the  end  of  the  trip,  at  which  time 
he  was  to  be  piled  into  the  big  auto  and  taken  with 
them  back  to  Baltimore. 

The  party  had  been  in  the  mountains  a  week  be- 
fore Jim  and  Gerald  decided  to  put  into  practice 
their  oft-repeated  resolve  to  go  fishing.  Dorothy 
and  Molly  begged  to  be  taken  along,  and  to  this 
the  boys  reluctantly  consented. 

The  trout  stream  in  the  valley  was  the  objective 
point  of  the  pilgrimage.  Here,  in  the  spot  where 
Molly  had  discovered  the  fish  swimming  about  in 
plain  view  of  those  on  shore,  they  would  try  their 
luck. 

Aurora,  interested  in  a  book,  refused  to  be 
tempted  by  the  other  girls,  and  stated  her  intention 
of  remaining  in  camp  with  Aunt  Betty,  Ephraim 
and  Len. 

With  a  bundle  of  sandwiches  and  their  tackle, 
the  fishing  party  got  away  from  camp  in  the  early 
morning,  planning  to  spend  the  better  part  of  the 
day  in  enticing  the  denizens  of  the  deep  to  nibble 
at  their  flies.  Then  the  return  to  camp  could  be 


I34  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

made  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  between  sundown 
and  dark. 

By  nine  o'clock  they  were  seated  on  the  bank  of 
the  stream,  poles  in  hand,  and  lines  cast  far  out 
into  the  stream. 

At  first  the  girls  kept  up  an  incessant  chatter, 
in  spite  of  the  warning  from  Jim  and  Gerald  that 
if  they  did  not  stop  they  would  scare  the  fish  away. 

"  Nonsense !  "  cried  Molly,  laughing  aloud  at  the 
warning.  "  Fish  can't  hear." 

At  this  Jim  and  Gerald  exchanged  glances  of 
amused  tolerance. 

"  Told  you  we  should  have  left  'em  at  home," 
said  the  latter. 

"  I  knew  it,"  Jim  replied.  "  It  was  only  through 
the  kindness  of  my  heart  that  I  agreed  to  let  them 
come." 

This  statement  only  served  to  amuse  Dorothy 
and  Molly,  and  their  laughter  rang  out  over  the 
water  so  loudly,  that  Jim  and  Gerald,  with  sighs  of 
resignation,  began  winding  in  their  lines  with  the 
evident  intention  of  departing. 

At  first  this  increased  the  merriment  of  the  girls. 
But  when  they  saw  the  boys  taking  their  poles 
apart,  and  stowing  the  sections  away  in  their  fish- 
ing bags,  they  realized  that  they  had  really  incurred 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  135 

the  displeasure  of  their  young  friends  by  what  they 
had  intended  as  a  joke. 

"  Come,"  said  Dorothy,  soberly.  "  You  boys  are 
not  going  home  ?  " 

"  Oh,  aren't  we  ?  "  demanded  Gerald. 

"  Yes ;  we're  going  home,"  Jim  said,  rather  curtly. 
"  Where  did  you  think  we  were  going  —  to  the 
village?" 

"  Oh,  come !  You  must  have  known  Molly  and 
I  were  only  joking  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  they  knew  it,"  Molly  chimed  in,  in 
a  careless  tone. 

"  There's  such  a  thing  as  carrying  a  joke  too 
far,"  said  Gerald. 

"  No  use  to  argue  with  a  couple  of  girls,  Gerald," 
said  Jim.  "  Let's  take  'em  home  and  come  back 
to-morrow." 

"  Suits  me,"  responded  his  chum.  "  I  hate  to 
think  we've  had  this  long  jaunt  for  nothing,  but 
there's  an  old  saying  to  the  effect  that  we  must 
learn  by  experience." 

Their  poles  "  knocked  down,"  and  stowed  away 
in  their  canvas  cases,  the  boys  picked  up  their  coats 
and  prepared  to  move. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  this  is  a  shame ! "  cried  Dorothy. 
"  I  had  counted  on  having  such  a  good  time." 


136  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  So  had  I,"  echoed  Molly  — "  such  a  good  time ! " 

"  So  had  we,"  said  the  boys  in  unison. 

"  But  we  djdn't,"  Jim  added. 

"  No;  we  didn't,"  echoed  Gerald. 

"  Well,  it  wasn't  our  fault,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  We  thought  you  could  take  a  joke,"  said  Molly. 

"  We  can,"  Gerald  replied.  "  It's  a  good  joke. 
We're  willing  to  admit  it's  on  us.  You  asked  to 
come;  we  consented.  That  was  our  fault,  not 
yours." 

"  Yes,"  Jim  put  in,  "  we  thought  you  knew  at 
least  the  rudiments  of  fishing." 

Molly  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Oh,  dear,  what  a  fuss  over  nothing,"  she 
groaned.  "  And  to  think  I  started  it  all  by  remark- 
ing that  fish  have  no  ears.  And  I'll  stand  by  my 
statement.  I'm  sure  I  am  right." 

"  No  use  to  argue  with  a  girl,"  said  Jim. 

"Not  a  bit,"  Gerald  replied.  "Let's  get  'em 
back  to  camp." 

"  I  refuse  to  go !  "  The  fire  fairly  flashed  from 
Dorothy's  eyes.  "  I  came  down  here  to  fish,  and 
fish  I  shall  until  I  get  ready  to  stop,  and  you're  a 
bigger  '  it '  than  I  think  you  are,  Molly  Brecken- 
ridge,  if  you  let  two  unruly  boys  bluff  you  into 
doing  as  they  wish." 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  137 

"  Then  we'll  have  to  leave  you  here,"  said  Jim, 
in  the  most  matter  of  fact  tone  he  could  muster. 

Gerald  nodded  assent. 

Then  both  boys  assumed  an  independent  air,  and 
acted  as  if  they  were  going  to  leave  —  as  much  as 
to  say  that  settled  the  matter. 

"  Well,  let's  be  going,"  said  Gerald,  casting  a  sly 
glance  toward  Dorothy,  and  noticing  that  she  made 
no  move  to  wind  in  her  line.  He  picked  up  his 
basket  and  threw  an  inquiring  glance  at  Jim. 

"  Of  course,  if  the  girls  agree  to  keep  still,  it 
won't  be  necessary  for  us  to  go,"  said  Jim. 

"  Too  bad  we  didn't  think  of  that  before  we 
wound  in  our  lines,"  Gerald  lamented. 

"  Well,  it's  never  too  late  to  let  them  out  again," 
[Dorothy  said,  coolly. 

"  Will  you  promise  to  be  quiet,  Dorothy  ?  " 

"  I  promise  nothing,  Jim  Barlow !  " 

"  Oh,  come  now  ;  don't  act  contrary !  " 

"  It's  not  me  who's  contrary,  and  you  know  it 
very  well." 

"  You  said  you  were  going  back  to  camp.  Why 
don't  you  go  ?  "  Molly  flung  at  them,  tauntingly. 

"  Well,  by  cracky,  we  should ;  it  would  serve  you 
right,"  Gerald  responded,  slightly  impatient.  "  You 
girls  have  no  right  to  treat  us  this  way.  We 


i38  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

brought  you  with  us  to  give  you  a  good  time,  and 
it  seems  that  you  might  respect  our  wishes  a  little. 
No  one  can  catch  fish  with  a  regular  gab-fest  going 
on  on  the  bank." 

"  Go  along  and  don't  bother  us,"  admonished 
Dorothy. 

At  that  instant  her  floater  began  to  bob  fiercely 
up  and  down.  There  was  a  strong  tug  on  her  line, 
and  the  reel  began  to  revolve  at  a  high  rate  of 
speed,  as  Mr.  Fish,  evidently  aware  that  in  snapping 
what  appeared  to  be  a  nice,  fat  fly,  he  had  gotten 
decidedly  the  worst  of  it,  made  a  desperate  effort 
to  get  away. 

"  Hold  him ! "  cried  Molly,  rising  on  the  bank 
and  waving  her  arms  excitedly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  hold  him,"  said  the  boys,  exchanging 
glances  of  amusement. 

"Hold  him?"  Dorothy  gritted  her  teeth. 
"  You  just  know  I'll  hold  him !  We'll  show  these 
young  gentlemen  that  fish  can  be  caught  when  there 
is  noise  on  the  bank.  Oh,  we'll  show  them !  " 

The  reel  was  revolving  more  slowly  now,  and 
before  the  end  of  the  line  was  reached,  had  ceased 
altogether.  Then  the  girl,  a  light  of  triumph  in 
her  eyes,  began  to  wind  in  her  prize.  It  was  a  slow 
task  and  a  hard  one,  for  when  the  denizen  of  the 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  139 

river  found  he  had  again  encountered  resistance, 
he  renewed  his  struggle  for  freedom.  Once  he 
nearly  jerked  the  girl  off  the  bank  into  the  water, 
greatly  to  the  delight  of  Jim  and  Gerald,  who  had 
settled  in  a  comfortable  nook  under  the  trees  with 
the  avowed  intention  of  being  "  in  at  the  finish." 
That  Dorothy  would  fail  to  land  the  fish  they  were 
quite  sure,  and  to  be  on  hand  with  a  hearty  laugh 
when  her  disappointment  came,  would  in  a  measure 
atone  for  the  trouble  of  bringing  the  girls  on  the 
trip. 

Little  by  little  the  struggling  fish  was  brought 
nearer,  until,  with  a  quick  jerk  of  her  pole,  the 
girl  lifted  him  clean  of  the  water  and  swung  him 
over  her  head  to  the  shore. 

So  quickly  djd  it  happen  that  Jim  was  unable  to 
get  out  of  the  way,  and  the  fish,  which  was  a  three- 
pound  trout,  struck  him  squarely  in  the  face,  bowl- 
ing him  over  in  the  grass,  and  causing  him  to  drop 
the  fishing  tackle  he  was  holding  in  his  hands,  long 
enough  to  brush  the  water  from  his  eyes. 

Now  it  was  the  girls'  turn  to  laugh,  and  they  did 
not  neglect  the  opportunity. 

"  Thought  I  couldn't  catch  a  fish,  didn't  you,  Jim 
Barlow?"  cried  Dorothy.  "Well,  I  trust  you  now 
see  the  error  of  your  judgment.  I  caught  him,  and 


140  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

you  caught  him,  too,  only  you  caught  him  where 
I  didn't  —  across  the  face." 

At  this  both  girls  burst  out  laughing  again,  and 
Gerald,  no  longer  able  to  restrain  himself,  convulsed 
at  the  sight  of  Jim  as  he  went  tumbling  backward 
with  his  eyes  and  nose  full  of  water,  was  forced 
to  join  them.  They  laughed  so  loudly  that  Jim 
first  smiled,  then  burst  into  a  guffaw  himself.  He 
had  been  inclined  to  be  angry  at  the  humiliation 
imposed  upon  him  by  the  fish,  but  now  the  ludicrous 
side  of  the  affair  appealed  to  him.  He  admitted 
that  Dorothy  had  all  the  best  of  the  argument  and 
wound  up  by  declaring  that  he  intended  trying  his 
luck  at  the  fish  again. 

Dorothy,  in  the  meantime,  had  walked  over  and 
picked  up  her  squirming  catch,  which  she  detached 
from  the  hook  and  dropped  in  the  basket  she  had 
brought  with  her  for  that  purpose. 

"  Here  goes  again !  "  she  cried,  and  fastening  a 
new  fly  on  her  line,  she  cast  it  far  out  into  the 
stream.  "  Better  hurry,  you  people,  or  I'll  have 
the  record  for  the  day." 

Gerald  and  Jim,  thus  admonished,  began  undoing 
their  fishing  tackle,  and  soon  the  quartet  were  fish- 
ing as  if  their  lives  depended  on  what  they  caught 
that  afternoon.  And  the  strangest  part  about  it 


UNWELCOME  VISITORS  141 

was  that  nobody  —  not  even  the  girls  —  said  a 
word!  Silence  reigned  supreme.  So,  although 
Dorothy  had  triumphed  in  showing  the  boys  the 
folly  of  keeping  absolutely  silent,  the  boys  had  also 
won  their  point  in  getting  the  girls  so  interested 
that  neither  cared  to  talk. 

The  fish  began  to  bite  with  unusual  frequency, 
and  soon  each  member  of  the  party  had  a  fine 
string  in  the  basket.  Lunch  was  forgotten,  so 
eager  was  each  to  beat  the  other's  record,  and  so 
nearly  equal  were  the  numbers  of  fish  caught  by 
each,  they  were  afraid  to  stop  to  count  them  for 
fear  they  would  be  losing  valuable  time. 

But  finally,  when  the  declining  sun  told  them 
that  the  afternoon  would  soon  be  gone,  with  the 
pangs  of  hunger  gnawing  at  their  stomachs,  a  gen- 
eral agreement  caused  all  to  wind  in  their  lines. 

The  fish  were  counted  and  it  was  seen  that  Doro- 
thy had  made  the  best  record  with  seventeen  trout 
of  various  sizes.  Gerald  came  a  close  second,  hav- 
ing sixteen,  while  Molly  and  Jim  followed  in  the 
order  named  with  fourteen  and  twelve  respectively. 

Lunch  was  eaten  —  or  rather  devoured,  for  they 
were  ravenously  hungry  —  in  the  shade  of  the  big 
trees  on  the  bank  before  preparations  were  made 
for  the  return  to  camp. 


142  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Wish  those  fish  were  up  the  mountain,"  sighed 
Jim. 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  easy  to  carry  them,"  said  Molly. 

"  Yes ;  easy  for  you,  because  Gerald  and  I  will 
have  to  carry  all  you've  caught  as  well  as  our  own." 

"  How  clever  of  you  to  guess  that,"  Dorothy  said, 
laughing.  "  You're  a  bright  boy,  Jim." 

"  Yes ;  a  little  too  bright  sometimes,"  he  returned. 
"  Next  time  I  come  fishing  I  hope  I  shall  be  bright 
enough  not  to  invite  you  girls." 

"  You  did  not  invite  us ;  we  invited  ourselves," 
said  Molly  with  some  spirit. 

"  And  they  should  be  well  satisfied,"  said  Doro- 
thy. "  If  it  had  not  been  for  us  they  would  have 
gone  back  to  camp  before  the  fish  commenced  to 
bite,  and  then  we  would  have  had  none." 

"  Pooh,  pooh  !  "  said  Jim. 

"  And  again  pooh,  pooh !  "  said  Gerald. 

Then,  without  further  ado,  the  boys  picked  up 
their  loads  and  the  climb  back  to  the  camp  was 
begun. 

They  reached  their  destination  tired  from  the  ex- 
ertion of  the  climb  and  generally  weary  from  the 
day's  strenuous  outing,  but  soon  the  odor  of  fried 
fish  made  them  glad  they  had  taken  the  trip  and 
that  the  results  had  been  so  satisfying. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   JOURNEY   HOME 

THE  next  few  days  passed  quickly  to  the  camp- 
ers, who  were  loath  for  the  time  to  approach  when 
they  would  have  to  "  pull  up  stakes  "  for  the  return 
to  Baltimore. 

Among  the  excursions  following  the  fishing  trip, 
was  another  of  a  similar  nature,  participated  in 
alone  by  Jim  and  Gerald.  But  as  the  results  were 
considerably  less  than  on  the  day  the  girls  had  ac- 
companied them,  there  was  a  hearty  laugh  at  the 
boys'  expense  when  they  returned  to  camp.  This 
they  accepted  good-naturedly,  however. 

At  one  time  or  another  the  whole  face  of  the 
mountain  was  explored,  many  curious  things  being 
discovered.  Among  them  was  a  cave  of  large  ex- 
tent, where  stalactites  and  stalagmites  abounded  in 
great  profusion.  Many  were  broken .  off  to  be 
taken  back  home  as  mementoes  of  the  trip. 

Nothing  further  had  been  heard  from  James 
Haley  and  Sheriff  Dundon,  and  during  the  last 
few  days  in  camp  Len  was  allowed  to  show  himself, 
though  he  did  not  venture  far  from  the  tents,  fear- 

143 


144  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

ing  to  take  a  risk  that  might  be  the  means  of  plating 
him  again  in  captivity. 

By  the  time  the  day  for  departure  came,  the  lad 
had  won  his  way  into  the  hearts  of  everyone.  Aunt 
Betty  and  Dorothy  were  so  taken  with  his  winning 
manners  and  extreme  good  nature  that  they  already 
regarded  him  as  a  protege,  and  were  planning  how 
he  was  to  be  trained  for  the  future,  and  given  a 
thorough  business  education. 

When  the  plan  was  mentioned  to  Len  he  fell  into 
the  spirit  of  it  with  an  alacrity  that  astonished  them. 
His  resolve  to  make  something  of  himself  was  a 
commendable  one  and  showed  the  proper  apprecia- 
tion for  their  efforts. 

On  the  morning  which  marked  the  end  of  their 
two  weeks'  stay,  the  boys  began  to  gather  up  the 
camping  paraphernalia  which  was  packed  in  the 
rear  chest  and  under  the  seats  of  the  automobile. 

After  a  short  conference  between  the  campers, 
it  was  decided  that  to  best  enjoy  their  last  day,  the 
afternoon  should  be  spent  running  about  over  the 
mountains  in  the  machine.  The  journey  home 
would  then  be  made  by  moonlight,  Gerald  having 
won  Aunt  Betty's  consent  to  "  speed  her  up."  He 
promised  that  they  should  all  be  home  and  in  bed 
shortly  after  midnight. 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  145 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear !  "  moaned  Aunt  Betty.  "  I  see 
I'm  in  for  it.  Why  did  I  ever  let  you  persuade 
me  to  become  a  party  to  this  speed  mania,  Gerald 
Blank?" 

"  Don't  ask  me  why,  Mrs.  Calvert,"  Gerald  re- 
sponded, laughing ;  "  I  only  know  that  you  did. 
I  have  your  promise,  remember!  And,"  he  added, 
dramatically,  "  a  Calvert  never  goes  back  on  a 
promise." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  you  have  my  promise,  but  I'm  sorry 
I  gave  it." 

"  She'll  be  glad  she  promised,  when  she  sees  how 
easy  the  big  Ajax  covers  ground,"  said  Jim,  wink- 
ing at  his  chum. 

"  I  think  the  ride  back  to  Baltimore  by  moon- 
light will  be  ideal,"  said  Molly,  rapturously. 

"  Isn't  it  strange  to  think  that  here  we  are  over 
sixty  miles  from  home,  not  planning  to  start  until 
the  moon  is  up,  yet  will  be  home  and  in  bed  by 
midnight  ?  "  said  Aurora. 

"  Pshaw !  That's  nothing,"  cried  Gerald.  "  It's 
mere  play  for  this  big  Ajax.  Why,  I  could  easily 
do  the  sixty  miles  in  a  little  over  an  hour  if  Aunt 
Betty—" 

"  Mercy ! "  screamed  Aunt  Betty.  "  In  a  little 
over  an  hour?  Gerald,  if  you  don't  stop  that  silly 


I46  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

talk,  I  shall  sit  myself  down  under  one  of  these 
trees  and  refuse  to  budge  an  inch." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  nice  it  is  to  ride  fast, 
Aunt  Betty,"  said  Dorothy ;  "  to  feel  the  wind  fairly 
blowing  the  hair  off  your  head ;  the  landscape  flash- 
ing past  so  rapidly  one  can  scarcely  see  it,  and  to 
know  that — " 

"  Stop,  Dorothy  Calvert !  You  shall  not  tempt 
me.  I'm  too  old  to  acquire  such  habits,  and  if 
Gerald  lets  his  car  get  beyond  a  fair  rate  of  speed 
during  our  journey  home,  I  shall  leap  out  into  the 
ditch.  Then  just  think  how  badly  you  all  will 
feel." 

But  the  boys  only  grinned  at  this,  and  resumed 
their  work  of  taking  down  the  tents. 

Soon  everything  was  packed  in  the  machine  but 
enough  food  for  their  mid-day  lunch,  which  was 
eaten  under  the  shade  of  the  trees. 

When  the  time  to  leave  came  at  last,  no  one 
seemed  happier  or  more  eager  than  Len  Haley.  An 
instinctive  fear  seemed  to  possess  the  lad  that  his 
uncle  would  be  prowling  about  the  mountains  and 
apprehend  him  when  he  least  expected  it;  hence, 
to  go  flying  away  to  Baltimore  in  a  big  automobile 
was  to  him  the  acme  of  delight. 

The  early  afternoon  was  spent  at  the  camp,  but 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  147 

about  four  o'clock,  when  the  sun  was  on  the  de- 
cline, and  the  shadows  in  the  valley  had  commenced 
to  lengthen,  Gerald,  at  the  wheel  of  the  big  Ajax, 
sent  the  machine  slowly  across  the  plateau  toward 
the  eastern  mountain. 

As  the  car  moved  along  the  girls  burst  into  a 
song,  and  a  moment  later  Jim  and  Gerald  joined  in. 
For  a  few  moments  they  fairly  made  the  welkin 
ring.  Then  as  the  machine  was  plunging  down  a 
steep  descent  the  concert  came  to  an  abrupt  end, 
and  the  inmates  clutched  the  rails  to  keep  from 
pitching  forward. 

Up  around  the  side  of  the  east  mountain  the 
auto  then  climbed  slowly,  seeming  to  exert  itself 
very  little  for  the  performance  of  so  difficult  a  task. 

Shortly  after  sundown,  they  went  spinning  down 
into  the  valley  to  the  hotel  where  they  had  stopped 
for  the  night  on  their  trip  to  the  mountains  two 
weeks  before. 

The  landlord  had  apparently  forgotten  that  this 
was  the  party  who  had  feasted  on  the  good  things 
he  had  set  before  them,  greatly  to  his  discomfiture ; 
for  now  he  put  himself  out  to  serve  them  a  fine 
supper. 

And  everyone  was  hungry!  Cold  meats,  bread, 
fresh  country  butter,  and  milk,  with  iced  tea  for 


J48  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

those  who  desired  it,  and  strawberry  jelly  and 
chocolate  cake  for  dessert,  made  a  bill  of  fare 
tempting  enough  to  suit  the  most  fastidious  mem- 
ber of  the  party. 

With  the  supply  of  gasoline  replenished,  both  in 
the  regular  and  reserve  tanks,  with  the  moon  peep- 
ing over  the  undulating  land  to  the  eastward,  shed- 
ding its  brilliant  rays  over  farm  and  road,  the  party 
left  the  village  hotel  for  the  run  back  to  Baltimore. 

Aunt  Betty  sat  sternly  in  the  big  rear  seat,  with 
Dorothy  on  one  side  and  Aurora  on  the  other,  her 
bonnet  held  firmly  in  place  by  a  large  veil,  her  lips 
tightly  compressed  in  prospect  of  the  fast  ride 
Gerald  had  promised  was  to  come.  She  had  little 
to  say.  In  her  heart  was  a  nameless  dread  —  had 
been,  in  fact,  since  Gerald  won  her  consent  to  allow 
him  to  run  at  a  faster  pace  on  the  return  trip. 

The  highways  in  this  part  of  Maryland  were  aH 
that  could  be  desired,  and  Gerald  was  not  long  in 
fulfilling  part  of  his  promise.  Knowing  that  some- 
thing over  half  way  to  their  destination  there  was 
for  several  miles  a  bad  stretch  of  road,  he  wished 
to  even  matters  by  making  good  time  until  the 
rough  spots  were  reached. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  now,  and  as  the  auio 
gathered  speed,  Aunt  Betty  gave  a  little  gasp,  then 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  149 

looked  at  Dorothy  and  bravely  smiled.  Gradually 
Gerald  let  the  car  out  until  she  was  doing  fully 
forty  miles  an  hour.  This  could  be  kept  up  only 
on  the  smooth  level  stretches  which  they  encoun- 
tered every  now  and  then.  In  climbing  the  hills, 
the  car  did  not  average  over  eight.  The  streams 
of  light  from  the  gas  lamps  made  a  wobbly  path 
in  the  darkness  when  occasionally  clouds  blew 
across  the  sky,  obscuring  the  moon. 

The  car  made  very  little  noise.  In  fact,  the  low 
hum  of  the  engine,  and  swish  of  the  tires  along  the 
smooth  roadway,  were  all  that  met  their  ears  as 
they  went  flying  up  hill  and  down  dale,  past  farm- 
houses and  over  bridges.  The  great  highway 
seemed  deserted  save  for  an  occasional  farm  wagon, 
which  turned  quickly  to  one  side  when  its  occupant 
saw  their  rapidly  approaching  lamps. 

Gerald  was  very  considerate  of  horses,  knowing 
that  many  animals  were  unused  to  automobiles, 
hence  were  liable  to  become  frightened  at  the  slight- 
est provocation. 

Through  the  villages  the  speed  was  slackened  to 
not  more  than  ten  miles  an  hour.  Very  few  of  the 
places  had  electric  lights,  hence  Gerald  was  forced 
to  depend  entirely  upon  the  moon  and  his  lamps 
for  guidance  through  crooked  streets.  At  times 


ISO  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

they  passed  little  groups  of  people,  come  out  from 
nearby  houses  to  watch  them  go  by;  at  others  they 
were  chased  for  long  distances  by  yelping  dogs,  who 
snapped  at  the  wheels  and  in  other  ways  tried  to 
show  their  supreme  contempt  for  a  vehicle  driven 
without  horses. 

Aunt  Betty  soon  grew  used  to  the  bursts  of 
speed,  and  before  they  were  half  way  to  Baltimore 
she  was  breathing  freely  once  more,  conscious  of 
the  fact  that  in  Gerald  the  big  auto  had  a  good  pilot, 
and  convinced  that  did  the  occasion  demand  it,  the 
car  could  be  brought  to  a  standstill  within  its  own 
length. 

"  I  believe  I  like  it  when  you  '  speed  her  up,'  as 
you  say,"  she  finally  admitted,  greatly  to  Gerald's 
delight.  "  I  hope  I  shan't  develop  a  mania  for 
speeding,  however,  as  that  would  necessitate  my 
buying  a  car  —  something  which  I  don't  feel  able 
to  do  just  at  present." 

"  I  shouldn't  allow  you  to  buy  one,"  said  Doro- 
thy, a  note  of  authority  in  her  voice  that  caused  a 
laugh  from  the  others. 

"  Humph !  Talks  like  she  rules  the  ranch,"  said 
Jim. 

"Well,  maybe  I  do,  Mr.  Smarty,"  replied  the 
girl.  "  One  thing  I  am  quite  sure  of  —  you  don't !  " 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  151 

"  Come,  children ;  neither  of  you  rule  the  ranch," 
Aunt  Betty  intervened.  "  I  rule  it  and  expect  to 
do  so  for  an  indefinite  period." 

"  See !  "  Jim  cried,  tauntingly.  "  Told  you  so ! 
Told  you  so !  " 

Dorothy  aimed  a  playful  blow  at  him,  but  he 
dodged  and  caught  her  arm  in  a  vise-like  grip, 
refusing  to  let  go  until  she  had  promised  to  be  a 
good  girl. 

At  ten-fifteen  they  passed  through  a  village  which 
Gerald  said  was  the  half-way  mark  between  Balti- 
more and  the  South  Mountains. 

"  We  have  rather  a  bad  stretch  of  road  ahead, 
however,"  he  told  them,  "  so  for  the  next  half  hour 
it  will  be  slower  going.  But  wait  till  we  strike  the 
graveled  county  road  this  side  of  Baltimore.  Then 
we'll  make  up  some  of  our  lost  time." 

But  somehow  this  did  not  interest  Aunt  Betty. 
She  was  talking  with  the  girls  and  apparently  felt 
not  the  slightest  tremor  at  the  thought  of  going 
at  a  faster  pace  —  a  change  that  Dorothy  noticed 
and  commented  on  with  no  little  delight. ' 

Just  when  Gerald  was  congratulating  himself  that 
the  roughest  part  of  the  trip  was  over,  the  front 
tire  on  the  left  exploded  with  a  bang  that  brought 
a  scream  from  every  feminine  inmate  of  the  car. 


152  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Molly,  who  was  nearest  the  noise,  promptly  threw 
her  arms  around  Gerald's  neck,  and  clung  there  as 
if  her  very  life  depended  on  it. 

It  was  with  considerable  difficulty  that  the  boy 
retained  the  presence  of  mind  to  stop  the  car.  But 
he  did  so  immediately,  then  gave  himself  up  to  the 
task  of  releasing  Molly's  arms.  When  he  had  suc- 
ceeded, he  kissed  her  on  the  lips,  greatly  to  her 
amazement  and  chagrin,  for  the  others,  recovered 
from  their  momentary  scare,  laughed  heartily. 

"  Gerald  Blank !  "  she  cried.  "  I'll  never,  never 
forgive  you  for  that !  " 

"  Well,  seeing  you  came  so  near  capsizing  us  by 
your  affectionate  embrace  of  the  chauffeur,  the  lat- 
ter individual  is  surely  entitled  to  some  reward  for 
his  valued  services  —  particularly  as  he  will  now 
have  to  detain  the  party  some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes, 
while  he  does  a  little  real  hard  labor." 

He  jumped  quickly  out  of  the  machine  and  going 
around  to  the  left  front  wheel,  examined  the  ex- 
ploded tire.  It  was  perfectly  flat. 

"  Yes ;  "  he  repeated,  "  this  means  a  little  work." 

"  That  was  hard  luck,  Gerald,"  said  Dorothy, 
"particularly  when  you  were  trying  to  make  a 
record  run." 

"  Yes ;  it's  the  first  trouble  we've  had  with  the 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  153 

machine  since  starting  on  our  trip.  But  this  is 
really  a  simple  matter,  Dorothy." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  of  that." 

"  I  shall  still  have  the  satisfaction  of  putting  you 
into  Bellvieu  in  time  to  be  in  bed  by  twelve  —  and 
we  may  even  shade  that  time  a  little.  Come,  Jim ! 
Get  that  jack  out  of  the  tool  chest,  and  help  me 
hoist  this  wheel  off  the  ground.  You'd  better  bring 
the  pump,  also,  and  we'll  see  how  long  it  will  take 
you  and  Ephy  to  inflate  a  tire  of  this  size." 

Jim  and  Ephraim  both  sprang  to  Gerald's  aid. 
Soon  the  jack  was  under  the  wheel,  where  it  re- 
quired but  a  moment  to  raise  the  machine  until  the 
wheel  was  clear  of  the  ground. 

Then  Gerald  removed  the  punctured  tire,  pulled 
out  the  inner  tube,  and  proceeded  to  put  the  new 
one  in  its  place.  With  the  tire  back  on  the  rim 
again,  he  attached  the  end  of  the  pump  to  the  air 
tube  with  astonishing  swiftness,  and  Jim  began  at 
once  to  force  the  ozone  into  the  rubber.  Tiring 
after  a  few  moments,  he  gave  way  to  Ephraim, 
while  Gerald,  his  hand  on  the  tire,  waited  until  it 
was  sufficiently  hard  to  carry  the  weight  of  the 
machine.  Then  he  gave  the  signal  to  stop  pumping. 

Another  moment  sufficed  to  lower  the  wheel  onto 
the  ground,  and  to  put  the  tools  back  in  the  chest 


154  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Then  Gerald  and  his  helpers  crawled  into  the  ma- 
chine and  the  big  car  started  off  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  The  whole  affair  had  not  taken  over 
ten  minutes. 

"  I  had  no  idea  punctures  were  so  easily  reme- 
died," said  Aunt  Betty.  "  Somehow,  I  have  always 
dreaded  the  thought  of  being  in  an  automobile  away 
from  the  city  when  a  tire  blew  up.  But,  aside  from 
the  noise,  there  seem  to  be  no  disagreeable  features." 

"  Would  be  if  you  didn't  happen  to  have  an. extra 
inner  tube  along,"  said  Jim. 

Gerald  nodded. 

"  You're  right.     The  idea  is  always  to  have  one." 

"  But  what  would  you  do  if  you  hadn't  ?  "  asked 
Dorothy. 

"  It  would  be  necessary  to  find  the  hole  in  the 
punctured  tube  and  stop  it  up  with  cement." 

"  And  then  you  would  have  to  wait  hours  for  it 
to  dry,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No ;  only  a  few  minutes.  There  is  a  prepara- 
tion something  like  putty  which  you  force  into  the 
puncture,  and  which  dries  in  a  very  few  minutes. 
Of  course,  a  tire  fixed  in  this  way  would  never  be 
considered  as  satisfactory  as  a  new  inner  tube,  yet 
they  have  been  known  to  go  many  miles  without  the 
slightest  trouble.  In  fact,  you  are  more  apt  to 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  355 

get  a  new  puncture,  than  to  have  the  patch  give 
out." 

Time  passed  so  quickly  as  the  big  machine  shot 
along  the  level  highway  at  a  rapid  pace  that  no  one 
realized  their  whereabouts  until  Aunt  Betty  cried 
suddenly : 

"  Oh,  look  over  there !  Those  must  be  the 
Northern  Lights." 

Her  hand  was  extended  toward  a  brilliant  glare 
which  lit  up  the  sky  as  the  moon  went  behind  a 
heavy  cloud. 

"  The  Northern  Lights,  and  in  the  east ! "  cried 
Dorothy.  "  Oh,  Aunt  Betty !  " 

"  As  I  live  that  is  the  east !  Why,  I'm  all  turned 
around.  Then  what  are  those  lights,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Baltimore,  of  course,  you  dear  auntie." 

"  So  soon?  Why,  it  seems  as  if  we  have  been  out 
barely  two  hours." 

"  And  we  have  been  out  but  a  very  little  more," 
said  Jim,  looking  at  his  watch.  "  It  is  only  eleven 
o'clock  and  it  was  a  few  minutes  to  nine  when  we 
left  the  hotel.  Another  half  hour  will. put  us  to 
the  gates  of  Bellvieu,  eh,  Gerald  ?  " 

"  Surely,"  was  the  response,  delivered  in  an  "  I- 
told-you-so  "  tone. 

Gradually  they  began  to  encounter  more  vehicles, 


156  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

the  majority  of  which  seemed  to  be  traveling  toward 
the  city. 

"  Strange  those  wagons  are  all  going  that  way," 
said  Aurora. 

"  Nothing  so  strange  about  it,"  said  Jim.  "  Most 
of  them  are  lumber  wagons  filled  with  country 
produce,  such  as  vegetables,  eggs  and  fruit.  They 
leave  the  farms  early  in  the  night  so  as  to  be  on 
hand  at  the  Baltimore  market  when  it  opens  for 
business  in  the  morning." 

On  they  flew  at  a  high  speed,  the  lights  ahead 
becoming  brighter  and  brighter.  Soon  an  electric 
light  burst  before  their  vision  off  to  the  right,  then 
another,  and  another,  until  they  realized  that  they 
were,  indeed,  in  the  outskirts  of  Baltimore. 

Gerald  ran  the  car  more  slowly  now,  for  city 
ordinances  are  very  strict,  imposing  a  low  limit  on 
the  speed  of  autos  when  within  the  confines  of  a 
municipality.  Gerald  had  never  been  fined  for 
speeding  since  coming  into  possession  of  an  auto, 
and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he  never  would 
be. 

Through  the  shopping  district  they  went,  and 
into  a  brilliantly-lighted  residence  street,  thence  into 
smaller,  narrower  streets  as  Gerald  turned  the  big 
Ajax  toward  the  shore  of  the  bay. 


THE  JOURNEY  HOME  157 

Then  old  Bellvieu,  lying  dark  and  silent  in  the 
moonlight,  a  single  light  twinkling  from  the  servants' 
quarters  in  the  rear,  burst  upon  their  view.  The 
car  ran  quickly  along  the  hedge  and  stopped  before 
the  gate. 

Gerald  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  It  is  just  eleven-thirty,"  he  said.  "  I  have  the 
honor  to  report  that  I  have  beaten  the  time  I  sug- 
gested by  several  minutes  —  enough  to  give  you 
time  to  unload  your  things  and  get  to  bed  before 
the  clock  strikes  twelve." 

Jim  and  Ephraim  grabbed  the  baskets  out  of  the 
big  chest  in  the  rear,  while  Aunt  Betty  and  the 
girls  seized  their  other  belongings.  Then,  bidding 
Gerald  and  Aurora  good  night,  with  many  thanks 
for  the  nice  time  they  had  had  in  the  new  car,  they 
went  up  the  pathway  toward  the  house. 

Chloe,  Dinah  and  Metty  had  heard  their  voices, 
and  with  shouts  of  delight  had  begun  to  light  up 
the  mansion.  By  the  time  the  party  reached  the 
gallery  the  big  house  looked  as  inviting  as  one  could 
wish. 

How  soft  and  fine  the  beds  seemed  that  night  to 
each  one  of  the  tired  camping  party,  for  no  matter 
how  enjoyable  a  time  they  had  had,  they  were 
forced  to  admit  that  there  was  no  place  like  home. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  FIRST   LESSON 

THE  next  week  was  a  pleasant  one  at  Bellvieu. 
Molly  Breckenridge  secured  the  consent  of  her  fa- 
ther to  remain  for  that  long,  and  the  girls  explored 
every  nook  and  corner  of  the  old  mansion  and  its 
grounds.  Even  the  big,  old-fashioned  barn  came  in 
for  its  share  of  their  attention. 

Horseback  riding  is  one  of  the  chief  attractions 
at  Bellvieu.  Both  girls  were  good  riders,  and  very 
fond  of  horses.  Jim  was  not  so  anxious,  but  usu- 
ally accompanied  them  when  they  ventured  away 
from  home. 

Long  rides  into  the  country  early  in  the  morning, 
or  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  were  enjoyed  to  the 
utmost.  Gerald  came  over  frequently  and  the  big 
automobile  served  to  give  them  many  pleasant 
hours. 

The  first  lesson  with  Herr  Deichenberg  had  been 

postponed  until  after  Molly's  departure,  though  that 

young  lady  was  not  aware  of  it.     The  Herr  refused 

to  have  the  attention  of  his  pupils  distracted  by 

158 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  15* 

visitors,  so,  while  impatient  to  begin  his  labors,  he 
consented  to  a  postponement  until  Bellvieu  should 
be  clear  of  company  and  affairs  running  along  in 
their  natural  groove. 

The  day  for  Molly's  departure  finally  rolled 
around,  and  at  the  station  to  see  her  off,  besides 
Dorothy  and  Jim,  were  Gerald  and  Aurora.  Molly 
waved  a  last  farewell  from  the  car  window  as  the 
train  moved  out  of  the  station. 

In  Dorothy's  ears  still  rang  her  promise : 

"  If  papa  consents,  I  will  spend  Christmas  with 
you  at  old  Bellvieu." 

To  which  Dorothy  had  replied : 

"  Of  course,  he'll  consent,  for  you're  to  invite 
him,  too." 

This  pleased  Molly  greatly  and  she  had  promised 
to  write  her  chum  what  the  judge's  decision  was. 

The  first  violin  lesson  was  set  for  the  morning 
after  Molly's  departure,  Herr  Deichenberg  having 
kindly  consented  to  come  to  Bellvieu,  greatly  to  the 
delight  of  both  Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty. 

Dorothy  was  eager  to  display  her  ability,  and, 
feeling  every  confidence  in  herself,  was  not  the  least 
bit  flustered  when  she  met  Herr  Deichenberg  at  the 
door  and  ushered  him  into  the  big  drawing-room. 

"  It  seems  real  good  to  see  you  again,  Miss  Doro- 


160  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

thy,"  the  old  professor  said.  "  1  have  been  t'inking 
about  you  a  great  deal  vhile  you  have  been  avay, 
und  I  am  really  anxious  to  have  you  back  —  really 
und  truly  anxious." 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  come  to  Bellvieu,  Herr. 
I  feel  that  I  should  have  gone  to  your  studio." 

"  Ah !     Don't  mention  dat.     I  — " 

"  But  I  am  much  younger  than  you.  I  can  afford 
to  exercise  myself  a  little  if  it  will  save  you  trouble." 

"  You  are  younger,  yes.  Yet,  I  am  not  as  old  in 
body  as  in  looks.  I  valk  pretty  straight,  yet,  eh, 
Miss  Dorothy  ?  "  and  laughing,  he  chucked  her  play- 
fully under  the  chin. 

"  You  walk  with  military  precision,  Herr,  except 
on  a  few  occasions  when  you  forget  yourself. 
Then  I  have  noticed  a  slight  stoop  to  the  shoulders," 
she  replied. 

"  Ah,  vhen  I  forget  myself,  yes  —  und  I  fear  dat 
is  very  often,  eh?" 

"  No,  no ;  I  think  you  do  remarkably  well." 

"  Do  you,  really  ?  Dat  iss  very  nice  of  you  to 
say.  If  you  vill  pay  me  all  de  time  such  compli- 
ments, I  t'ink  you  need  not  come  to  my  studio  at 
all.  I  vill  be  happy  to  come  to  your  great  home, 
here."  He  looked  out  through  the  window,  where 
the  magnificent  sweep  of  lawn,  with  its  flowers, 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  161 

trees  and  hedges,  made  a  pretty  picture.  "  It  iss 
beautiful  —  beautiful !  " 

While  they  were  talking  Aunt  Betty,  attired  in 
a  charming  morning  gown,  well-becoming  to  one  of 
her  age,  entered  the  room. 

Herr  Deichenberg  arose  with  a  broad  smile  to 
greet  her. 

"  All,  here  iss  de  mistress  of  de  house,"  he  said 
to  Dorothy,  then  turned  to  Aunt  Betty,  who  had  ex- 
tended her  hand  with  the  words : 

"  Welcome  again  to  Bellvieu,  Herr  Deichenberg." 

"  T'ank  you,  madame.  It  iss  very  kind  of  you. 
Really,  if  I  sit  here  much  longer,  admiring  de  flow- 
ers und  de  trees,  I  shall  forget  dat  I  have  come  to 
give  dis  young  lady  a  moosic  lesson,  und  dat  I  shall 
have  another  pupil  vaiting  for  me  in  de  studio  at 
eleven." 

"  But  it  is  well  that  you  occasionally  forget  your 
labors,  Herr." 

"Ah,  yes,  but—" 

"  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say  —  that  you 
have  your  living  to  make." 

"  Madame,  you  have  read  the  sordid  t'oughts  of 
an  old  man  who  is  supposed  to  have  made  a  great 
success." 

"And  I'm  sure  you  have  made  a  great  success. 


162  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

As  for  the  money,  Herr,  is  that  any  reason  you 
should  ruin  your  health  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  madame,  but  — " 

"  Ah,  Herr,"  she  interrupted  again,  "  you  are  be- 
coming too  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  American 
spirit,  which  thinks  of  nothing  more  than  to  catch 
the  dollars  as  they  go  rolling  past  Then,  after  they 
are  corralled  in  a  bank,  or  invested  in  property,  you 
are  not  satisfied,  but  begin  to  covet  more." 

"  Madame,  you  have  struck  de  key-note  of  it  all, 
I  fear.  I  plead  guilty.  But  I  also  plead,  in  ex- 
tenuation, dat  I  have  a  vife  to  whom  I  owe  a  great 
duty." 

"  Ah,  yes,  a  wife !  True,  true ;  but  did  you  ever 
put  straight  to  her  the  question  whether  she  would 
prefer  to  have  you  slave  for  money  or  give  her  a 
little  more  of  your  time  for  pleasure  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  know  vhat  she  vould  say.  You  are 
right  und  I  am  wrong.  But  come,  Miss  Dorothy, 
de  lesson!  I  have  brought  with  me  my  own  in- 
strument. I  vill  get  it  at  once." 

Stepping  across  the  room  he  picked  up  his  violin 
case  and  began  to  unfasten  the  clasps,  while  Doro- 
thy watched  him  with  fascinated  gaze. 

"  Oh,  Herr,"  cried  the  girl,  "  you  —  you  didn't 
bring  your  old  Cremona  ?  " 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  163 

"  Surely.  Vhat  you  t'ink,  dat  you  are  not  good 
enough  to  be  taught  on  a  Cremona,  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Herr,  you  know  I  didn't  mean  that !  " 

"Of  course  not,"  he  laughed.  "  You  meant  dat 
you  vould  like  to  see  it,  maybe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  Veil,  here  it  iss." 

For  a  moment  Dorothy  was  awed  as  she  gazed  at 
the  rather  ordinary-looking  violin. 

Could  this  be  the  great  Cremona  of  which  she 
had  heard  so  much  ?  This  —  this  —  why,  this 
looked  more  like  a  ten-dollar  fiddle  picked  up  in  a 
pawnshop ! 

She  knew,  however,  that  the  Herr  would  not 
deceive  her,  so  she  took  the  instrument  tenderly  in 
her  hands  while  the  old  German  watched  her  in- 
tently. When  he  saw  the  look  of  reverence  that 
crossed  her  face,  he  seemed  pleased. 

"  You  vould  like  to  try  it,  yes,  Miss  Dorothy?  " 

"  Oh,  Herr,  if  I  only  may !  " 

"  Surely,  surely.  Iss  it  stingy  I  am,  do  you  t'ink  ? 
Surely  you  may  try  it,  my  leetle  girl.  Here  —  use 
my  own  bow,  too.  It  iss  well  resined,  und  in  good 
shape  for  to  make  fine  moosic.  Now,  let  me  hear 
you  play." 

Not  until   she  had  drawn  the  bow  across  the 


I&4  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

strings  and  heard  the  deep,  sweet  tones  of  the  old 
Cremona,  did  Dorothy  realize  that  in  her  hands 
she  held  an  instrument  constructed  by  one  of  the 
finest  of  the  old  masters  —  an  instrument  that  had 
come  down,  perfectly  preserved  through  the  ages, 
growing  better  with  each  passing  year. 

As  the  girl  played  one  of  the  simple  pieces  which 
lay  uppermost  on  the  piano-rack,  the  big  living- 
room  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  matchless 
melody.  So  clear  and  pure  were  the  tones  that 
Dorothy  could  hardly  believe  her  ears.  Was  it 
indeed  she  who  made  such  delightful  music,  or  was 
she  dreaming? 

Herr  Deichenberg's  voice  brought  her  back  to 
her  normal  state  of  mind. 

"  It  iss  beautiful  —  de  melody.  I  did  not  believe 
you  could  do  it,  even  on  a  Cremona." 

"  It  is  not  me,  Herr,  but  this  wonderful  vio- 
lin," the  girl  cried  in  admiration. 

"  Oh,  come,  now,  vhen  we  simmer  t'ings  down  to 
a  fine  point,  de  Cremona  iss  not  so  different  from 
your  own  instrument,  Miss  Dorothy." 

"  Oh,  Herr,  surely  you  are  mistaken.  Why,  I 
seem  to  be  dreaming  when  I  am  playing  on  the 
Cremona." 

"  Und  vhy  iss  dat  ?     Because  you  have  made  up 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  165 

your  mind  dat  dis  iss  absolutely  de  finest  violin  in 
de  whole  vorld,  und  have  prepared  yourself  to  hear 
somet'ing  vliich  iss  not  there.  De  tones  are  clear 
und  full,  but  so  are  those  of  your  own  violin,  on 
vhich  you  played  for  me  vhen  I  vass  here  before." 

Dorothy  shook  her  head  in  disbelief,  unable  to 
appreciate  the  full  truth  of  his  words. 

Herr  Deichenberg  smiled. 

"  You  von't  believe  me,  eh  ?  Very  veil.  Let  us 
on  with  de  lesson.  I  shall  convince  you  at  another 
time." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  will  have  a  hard  time  ever  con- 
vincing me  of  that,"  the  girl  replied. 

Dorothy's  own  violin  was  tuned,  and  on  this, 
under  the  music  master's  direction,  she  ran  scales 
for  the  better  part  of  an  hour  —  to  limber  her 
fingers,  Herr  Deichenberg  said. 

"  But  they  are  already  limber,  Herr,"  she  re- 
turned, in  a  tone  of  mild  protest 

"  Vait,  vait,"  he  good-naturedly  said.  "  Vait  just 
a  few  veeks  und  den  you  vill  see  vhat  you  shaJl 
see.  I  vill  have  you  doing  vhat  you  Americans  call 
'  stunts  '  on  dat  violin.  Really,  it  vill  surprise  you  ! 
Your  fingers  are  stiff.  See ;  I  vill  show  you.  Now, 
try  dis  exercise  —  here !  "  He  opened  one  of  her 
•task  books  and  pushed  the  music  before  ber. 


166  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Right  there,  now.  One  —  two  —  t'ree !  One  — 
two  —  t'ree !  — " 

Dorothy  swung  off  into  the  exercise  with  appar- 
ent ease,  but  soon  reached  a  difficult  scale  in  the 
third  position.  Somehow  her  ringers  would  not  go 
where  she  intended  them.  She  tried  it  once  — 
twice  —  then  stopped,  flushing. 

"You  see?"  said  the  Herr  professor.  "If  I 
vant  to  be  mean,  I  vould  say,  '  I  told  you  so.'  " 

"  Oh,  Herr,  I  beg  your  pardon !  I  will  never  dis- 
pute your  word  again  —  never  —  never !  My  fin- 
gers are  stiff.  They  are  all  right  for  ordinary  music 
in  the  first  and  second  positions,  but  the  third  I  can 
hardly  do  at  all,  and  I'm  sure  I  have  practiced  and 
practiced  it." 

"  Surely  you  have  practiced  it,  but  never  as  you 
shall  during  de  next  few  veeks.  It  iss  only  by  con- 
stant application  to  a  certain  method  dat  great  violin 
players  are  made.  Dey  are  expected  to  accomplish 
de  impossible.  Dat  may  sound  rather  vague  to  you, 
but  you  vill  some  day  understand  vhat  I  mean." 

"  I  understand  what  you  mean  now,  Herr.  I  find 
an  exercise  which  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  play. 
But  I  keep  everlastingly  at  it  until  I  can  play  it. 
In  that  way  I  have  achieved  what  seemed  to  be  the 
impossible." 


"  Dat  iss  it  —  dat  iss  it !  You  catch  my  idea  ex- 
actly. Do  you  t'ink  you  vill  be  able  to  accomplish 
many  of  those  impossible  t'ings  ?  " 

"  I  shall  perform  every  task  you  set  for  me,  no 
matter  how  long  or  how  hard  I  have  to  try." 

"  Ah,  now,  dat  iss  de  proper  spirit.  If  all  young 
ladies  vere  like  you  vhat  a  beautiful  time  de  moosic 
teachers  vould  have." 

"They  would,  Herr?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  dey  vould  be  so  overjoyed  dat  dey 
.vould  be  avay  on  a  vacation  most  of  de  time." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  all  sorts  of  pupils,  Herr  ?  " 
said  Aunt  Betty,  who  had  been  an  interested  lis- 
tener to  the  conversation  between  the  girl  and  the 
professor. 

"  Yes ;  mostly  young  girls,  madame.  und  to  say 
dat  dey  are  a  big  trouble  iss  but  expressing  it  mildly. 
In  fact,  dey  are  de  greatest  of  my  troubles.  Dey 
pay  me  veil,  yes,  but  vhat  iss  pay  vhen  you  must 
labor  with  dem  hour  after  hour  to  get  an  idea 
t'rough  their  heads?  Vy,  for  example  I  vill  show 
you.  A  lady  pupil  vill  valk  into  my  studio,  t'row 
off  her  t'ings  und  prepare  for  a  lesson.  Vhen  I 
say  now  you  do  dis  or  dat,  she  vill  reply,  '  Oh, 
Herr,  you  should  not  ask  of  me  de  impossible ! ' 
Und  I  try  to  explain  dat  it  iss  only  by  practice  dat 


168  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

she  vill  ever  make  a  great  musician.  Den  perhaps 
she  vill  reply :  '  Veil,  if  I  had  known  it  vass  such 
hard  vork  maybe  I  vould  not  have  tried  to  play/ 
und  den  she  heaves  such  a  sigh  dat  for  a  moment 
I  really  feel  ashamed  of  myself  for  making  her  vork 
so  hard.  Oh,  madame,  it  iss  awful !  Sometimes  I 
almost  go  crazy  in  my  head."  He  turned  again  to 
Dorothy.  "  But,  come,  young  lady,  back  to  de  les- 
son, und  ve  vill  soon  be  t'rough." 

Dorothy  nodded  her  willingness,  which  caused  the 
Herr  professor  to  smile  and  nod  delightedly  at  Aunt 
Betty. 

"  Dat  iss  de  proper  spirit,"  he  kept  repeating,  half 
aloud. 

Scale  after  scale  the  girl  ran  over,  repeating 
dozens  of  times  the  same  notes,  until  Herr  Deichen- 
berg  would  nod  his  head  that  she  had  played  it  to 
his  satisfaction.  Then  on  to  another  and  the  same 
performance  over  again. 

Her  work  won  from  the  Herr  the  heartiest  of 
commendation,  and  when  he  left  he  told  both  Doro- 
thy and  Aunt  Betty  that  he  would  look  forward  to 
the  next  lesson  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 

Thereafter,  twice  each  week,  the  Herr  came  to 
Bellvieu.  He  seemed  to  dearly  love  the  old  place, 
for  during  her  first  four  weeks  of  lessons  Dorothy 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  169 

was  unable  to  win  from  him  his  consent  to  take 
her  to  his  home. 

Finally,  he  agreed  that  the  next  lesson  should  be 
in  the  studio,  but  only  after  considerable  pleading 
on  her  part. 

"  I  am  doing  it  to  please  you,"  he  told  her,  "  for 
if  I  have  my  vay,  I  vould  much  rather  come  to  dis 
beautiful  place." 

Dorothy  could  hardly  wait  for  the  time  of  the 
visit  to  come. 

The  Herr  had  asked  Aunt  Betty  to  accompany 
her  great-niece,  to  meet  Frau  Deichenberg,  and  on 
the  morning  in  question  they  set  out  together  in  the 
barouche. 

Metty  finally  drew  up  on  a  quiet  street  before  the 
quaintest-looking  little  house  Dorothy  had  ever 
seen.  It  was  not  a  bungalow,  yet  about  it  were 
certain  lines  which  suggested  that  type  of  structure. 
It  was  all  in  one  story,  with  great  French  windows 
on  two  sides,  and  with  trailing  vines  climbing  the 
porch  posts  onto  the  roof  in  thoroughly  wild  aban- 
don. 

Herr  Deichenberg  came  out  to  meet  them  and 
lead  them  into  the  living-room  of  the  house,  where 
Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty  met  for  the  first  time 
Frau  Deichenberg,  who  had  been  out  on  the  occa- 


i;«  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

sion  of  Aunt  Betty's  first  visit.  The  Frau  proved 
to  be  a  kindly  German  lady  who  spoke  English  with 
even  more  accent  than  her  distinguished  husband. 

The  welcome  to  the  studio  was  complete  in  every 
way,  and  as  Dorothy  went  from  room  to  room 
examining  the  rare  curios  and  works  of  art,  which 
the  Herr  and  his  wife  had  gathered  from  various 
parts  of  the  world,  she  felt  that  her  visit  had  not 
been  in  vain. 

In  the  large,  well-lighted  music  room,  where  the 
Herr  received  his  pupils,  Dorothy  found  the  things 
of  greatest  interest.  Half  a  dozen  violins  were 
scattered  about  on  the  shelves,  or  lying  on  the  old- 
fashioned  piano,  while  clocks  of  every  conceivable 
size  and  shape,  bronze  statues  from  the  Far  East, 
and  queerly  woven  baskets  from  the  Pampas, 
mingled  with  the  Mexican  pottery  and  valuable 
geological  specimens  from  her  own  United  States. 

Finally,  when  the  girl's  curiosity  had  been  thor- 
oughly satisfied,  Aunt  Betty  and  Frau  Deichenberg 
were  shown  into  another  room  and  the  music  master 
and  his  pupil  began  their  lesson. 

It  was  not  until  the  lesson  was  over  that  the  Herr 
turned  to  his  pupil  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes 
and  observed : 

"  You  are  so  fond  of  moosic,  perhaps  you  do  not 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  171 

know  dat  every  year  I  give  a  concert  in  de  theater 
before  de  opening  of  de  regular  season." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have  often  heard  of  your  concert," 
the  girl  replied.  "  I  have  longed  to  go  to  them,  but 
something  has  always  kept  me  from  it." 

"  Veil,  you  are  going  to  my  next  one." 

"  I  am  ?     Oh,  how  good  of  you,  Herr !  " 

"  Yes,  it  iss  very  good  of  me,  for  there  you  shall 
meet  one  of  my  most  promising  pupils." 

"  Oh,  tell  me  who  it  is,"  she  replied,  unable  to 
restrain  her  curiosity. 

"  Veil,  it  iss  a  secret  dat  has  not  yet  been  vhis- 
pered  to  a  soul.  But  I  don't  mind  telling  you.  De 
name  of  de  young  lady  iss  Miss  Dorothy  Calvert." 

"  Why,  Herr  Deichenberg,  you  don't  mean 
that  —  ?" 

Dorothy  stopped  short.  A  lump  came  into  her 
throat  and  she  was  unable  to  continue. 

"  Dat  iss  just  vhat  I  mean,"  he  smiled,  reading 
her  thoughts.  "  You  are  to  play  at  de  concert, 
vhere  you  are  expected  to  do  both  yourself  und 
your  moosic  teacher  proud." 

"  Oh,  Herr,  I  hadn't  imagined  such  an  honor 
would  be  conferred  upon  me  this  year.  Why, 
surely  there  are  other  pupils  who  have  more  talent 
and  can  make  a  better  showing  for  you  than  I  ?  " 


I72  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  it  iss  I  who  shall  be  de 
best  judge  of  dat." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean— " 

"  Never  before  have  I  had  a  young  lady  refuse 
an  invitation  to  play  at  my  concert." 

"Why,  Herr,  I  haven't  refused.  You  don't 
understand  me.  I  —  I  — " 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  understand  you  perfectly  —  I 
have  surprised  you  and  you  have  not  yet  found 
time  to  catch  your  breath.  Iss  dat  not  so  ?  " 

"Yes,  but—" 

"  Oh,  no  '  buts.'  I  know  vhat  you  vould  say. 
But  it  is  not  necessary.  I  have  made  up  my  mind, 
und  once  I  do  dat,  I  never  change." 

"I  know,  Herr,  but—" 

"  Didn't  I  say  no  '  buts '  ?  You  shall  show  de 
people  of  Baltimore  vhat  a  really  fine  violinist  dey 
have  in  their  midst." 

"  Well,  if  you  insist,  of  course  I  shall  play.  And 
are  you  to  play  my  accompaniments  ?  " 

"  I,  my  dear  young  lady  ?  No,  no ;  I  shall  have 
my  hands  full  vidout  attempting  dat.  But  you  shall 
have  a  full  orchestra  at  your  beck  und  call  to  t'un- 
der  at  you  vun  minute  und  to  help  you  lull  de  audi- 
ence to  sleep  de  next." 

"Herr,  you  overwhelm  me!  " 


THE  FIRST  LESSON  173 

"  Such  vass  not  my  intention.  I  am  merely  tell- 
ing you  vhat  I  know  to  be  de  truth.  You  are  a 
remarkable  girl  und  nothing  I  can  say  vill  turn  your 
head.  I  have  tried  it  und  I  know.  Dat  iss  vhy  I 
do  not  hesitate  to  say  it." 

When  Dorothy  Calvert  left  Herr  Deichenberg's 
studio  that  morning  she  was  the  happiest  girl  in 
Baltimore. 


CHAPTER  X 
HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT 

HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  concert  was  but  a  month 
away,  and  Dorothy,  despite  the  hotness  of  the 
weather,  practiced  as  she  never  had  before. 

After  her  visit  to  the  studio  Herr  Deichenberg 
resumed  his  comings  to  Bellvieu.  He  seemed  never 
to  tire  descanting  on  the  beauties  of  the  old  estate, 
and  in  this  way  won  a  warm  place  in  the  hearts  of 
both  Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty  —  aside  from  his 
many  other  fine  qualities. 

Aunt  Betty  had  been  delighted  at  the  thought  of 
Dorothy's  appearing  at  the  Herr's  concert. 

"  His  affairs  are  the  finest  of  their  kind  given  in 
the  city,"  she  told  the  girl,  "  and  it  is  an  honor  you 
must  not  fail  to  appreciate.  The  Herr  would  not 
have  invited  you  to  appear  had  he  not  been  sure  of 
your  ability  to  uphold  his  standards." 

The  week  before  the  concert  Herr  Deichenberg 
came  out  one  morning  in  a  particularly  good  humor 
—  though,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  seemed  always  bub- 
bling over  with  agreeable  qualities. 
174 


HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT          175 

"  It  iss  all  arranged,"  he  told  Dorothy  — "  for  de 
concert,  I  mean.  De  theater  has  been  put  in  readi- 
ness, und  you  should  see  de  decorations.  Ah'. 
Vines  trailing  t'rough  de  boxes,  und  de  stage  just 
loaded  down  with  palms.  Und  yet  I  am  not  t'rough, 
I  have  been  offered  de  loan  of  some  of  de  finest 
plants  in  de  city.  I  tell  you,  Miss  Dorothy,  it  iss 
very  nice  to  have  friends." 

"  It  is  indeed,"  the  girl  responded.  "  A  little  in- 
spiration from  them  can  go  a  long  way  toward 
helping  us  accomplish  our  tasks." 

The  lesson  went  unusually  well  that  morning. 

Dorothy  was  practicing  certain  pieces  now,  which 
she  was  to  render  at  the  concert,  the  selections  hav- 
ing been  made  from  among  the  classics  by  the  Herr 
professor.  There  were  two  pieces,  and  a  third  — 
a  medley  of  old  Southern  airs  —  was  to  be  held  in 
readiness,  though  the  music  master  warned  his  pupil 
not  to  be  discouraged  if  she  did  not  receive  a  sec- 
ond encore. 

The  Herr  was  even  more  particular  than  was  his 
wont  —  if  such  a  thing  were  possible.  The  missing 
of  the  fraction  of  a  beat  —  the  slightest  error  in 
execution  or  technique  —  he  would  correct  at  once, 
making  her  play  over  a  certain  bar  time  and  again, 
until  her  playing  was  to  his  entire  satisfaction. 


176  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Then  he  would  encourage  her  with  a  nod  of  ap- 
proval, and  go  on  to  the  next. 

But  Dorothy  did  not  mind  this ;  rather,  she  rev- 
elled in  it.  Her  heart  was  in  her  prospective  career 
as  a  violinist,  and  she  was  willing  to  undergo  any 
discomfort  if  she  could  but  attain  her  ambition. 

On  the  morning  before  the  concert  Herr  Deichen- 
berg  made  his  last  call  at  Bellvieu  —  before  the 
event.  By  this  time  Dorothy  had  learned  well  her 
lessons,  and  the  Herr  required  that  she  run  over 
each  piece  but  once.  Her  execution  was  perfect  — 
not  a  note  marred  or  slurred  —  and  he  expressed 
his  satisfaction  in  glowing  terms. 

"  You  vill  now  take  a  veil-deserved  rest,"  he  said. 
"  Please  do  not  touch  a  violin  until  you  arrive  at 
the  theater  to-morrow  evening." 

"  I  can  hardly  wait  for  to-morrow  evening  to 
come,  Herr,"  she  replied.  The  eagerness  in  her 
voice  caused  the  music  master  to  smile. 

"  Ah,  but  you  must  not  be  too  anxious,  young 
lady.  Better  it  iss  to  get  de  concert  off  your  mind 
for  a  vhile.  Vhat  iss  de  use  of  playing  de  whole 
affair  over  in  your  mind,  until  you  are  sick  und 
tired  of  it?  No,  no;  don't  do  it.  Vait  till  you  get 
de  reality." 

"  As  well  try  to  banish  my  dear  Aunt  Betty  from 


HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT  177 

my  thoughts,"  was  the  answer  of  the  smiling  girl. 

"  Ah,  veil,  vhen  you  are  as  old  as  I,  those  t'ings 
vill  not  vorry  you." 

"  Ah,  but  Herr,  you  are  worried  yourself  —  I  can 
see  it." 

"  Vhat !  Me  vorried  ?  Oh,  my  dear  young  lady, 
no;  my  composure  is  perfect  —  perfect." 

"  You  are  worrying  right  now." 

"  Over  vhat,  please  ?  " 

"  Well,  first  you  are  wondering  whether  the  con- 
fidence reposed  by  you  in  one  Miss  Dorothy  Cal- 
vert  will  be  justified  when  she  faces  a  great  audi- 
ence for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  Now,  'fess  up, 
aren't  you,  Herr  Deichenberg  ?  " 

"  No,  no;  I  have  not  de  slightest  doubt  of  dat." 

"  Then  you  are  worrying  because  you  fear  some 
of  the  other  numbers  on  the  programme  will  not 
come  up  to  your  expectations.  Now,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  Miss  Dorothy.  No ;  I  do  not  vorry  — 
of  course,  there  iss  dat  young  lady  who  is  to  render 
de  piano  selections  from  '  Faust ' —  er  —  yet,  I  have 
no  cause  to  vorry.  No,  no,  I  — " 

Dorothy  interrupted  with  a  laugh. 

"  Your  troubled  expression  as  you  said  that  gave 
you  away,  Herr.  But  I  suppose  it  is  very  bold  and 
impudent  of  me  to  tease  you  about  these  matters." 


i;8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

The  Herr  smiled. 

"  Oh,  you  just  tease  me  all  you  vant  —  I  like  it. 
But  really,  if  I  vass  vorried,  I  vould  tell  you  — 
surely  I  vould.  Er  —  if  dat  young  lady  vill  just 
remember  vhat  I  haf  told  her,  she  — " 

Again  the  troubled  expression  flitted  over  Herr 
Deichenberg's  countenance,  and  Dorothy,  seeing 
that  he  was  really  worried  though  'he  would  not 
admit  it,  decided  not  to  tease  him  further. 

He  soon  took  his  departure,  and  the  girl  rushed 
away  to  tell  Aunt  Betty  that  the  Herr  was  well 
satisfied  with  her  work,  then  to  talk  incessantly  for 
half  an  hour  about  the  coming  event.  The  con- 
cert was  by  far  the  largest  affair  that  had  ever 
loomed  up  on  Miss  Dorothy's  horizon,  and  she 
naturally  could  not  get  it  off  her  mind. 

The  great  opera  house  in  which  the  concert  was 
to  be  held  was  packed  with  people  the  next  evening. 

Dorothy,  on  the  stage,  peeping  through  a  little 
hole  in  the  curtain,  saw  one  of  the  most  fashionable 
audiences  old  Baltimore  had  ever  turned  out  —  the 
largest,  in  fact,  Herr  Deichenberg  had  ever  drawn 
to  one  of  his  affairs,  though  the  drawing  power  of 
the  old  professor  had  always  been  something  to 
talk  about. 

Entering  the  stage  entrance  early  in  the  evening, 


HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT  179 

dressed  in  an  elaborate  white  evening  gown,  made 
expressly  for  this  occasion  at  one  of  the  great  dress- 
making establishments,  Dorothy  had  deposited  her 
violin  in  her  dressing-room  and  sallied  forth  to 
view  the  wonders  of  Fairyland  —  for  such  the 
stage,  with  its  many  illusions  and  mysteries,  seemed 
to  her. 

She  took  great  care  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
the  stage  hands,  who  rushed  back  and  forth,  drag- 
ging great  pieces  of  scenery  over  the  stage  as  if 
they  were  but  bits  of  pasteboard.  Drops  were  let 
down,  set  pieces  put  in  place,  until,  right  before  the 
eyes  of  the  girl,  a  picture,  beautiful  indeed,  had 
appeared.  Where  there  had  been  but  an  empty 
stage  now  stood  a  scene  representing  a  magnificent 
garden,  with  statuary,  fountains  and  beautiful 
shrubbery  all  in  their  proper  places.  True,  a  great 
portion  of  this  was  represented  by  the  back  drop, 
but  Dorothy  knew  that  from  the  front  the  scene 
would  look  very  real.  Great  jagged  edges  of  wood 
wings  protruded  on  to  the  stage  —  three  on  either 
side  —  while  benches  and  palms  were  scattered  here 
and  there  to  properly  balance  the  picture.  Then,  as 
if  to  force  into  the  scene  an  incongruity  of  some 
sort,  a  grand  piano  was  pushed  out  of  the  darkness 
in  the  rear  of  the  stage,  to  a  place  in  the  garden, 


180  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

where  it  stood,  seemingly  the  one  blot  on  the  land- 
scape. 

"  A  piano  in  a  garden !  "  exclaimed  Dorothy,  and 
laughed  softly  to  herself.  "  Who  ever  heard  of 
such  a  thing?  Yet,  of  course,  the  concert  could 
not  proceed  without  it." 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  here  you  are !  You  are  fasci- 
nated with  it  all,  yes?"  questioned  Herr  Deicheti- 
berg,  as  he  passed  in  a  hurry.  She  nodded,  smiling, 
and  saw  him  rush  hurriedly  to  the  dressing-rooms 
below  the  stage  to  make  sure  all  his  pupils  were 
present. 

As  he  went  the  house  electrician,  with  each  hand 
on  portions  of  the  big  switchboard,  threw  on  the 
border  and  bunch  lights,  making  the  great  stage 
almost  as  light  as  day.  Then,  out  in  front,  Doro- 
thy heard  the  orchestra  as  it  struck  into  the  over- 
ture, and  hastening  away,  she  seated  herself  in  her 
dressing-room  to  await  her  turn  on  the  programme. 

Aunt  Betty,  she  knew,  sitting  with  Len  and  Jim 
in  one  of  the  front  rows  of  the  orchestra,  would 
be  eagerly  awaiting  her  appearance.  She  resolved 
that  not  only  her  relative,  but  Herr  Deichenberg,  as 
well,  should  be  proud  of  her  achievements. 

She  heard  the  first  number  —  a  piano  solo  — 
then  the  great  roar  of  applause  that  swept  over  the 


HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT  181 

assemblage.  This  was  followed  by  an  encore. 
Then  another  round  of  applause. 

The  next  number  was  a  harp  solo.  This  was 
followed  by  a  piano  duet,  which,  in  turn,  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  vocal  number.  Following  each  the  ap- 
plause was  almost  deafening.  Encores  were  al- 
lowed in  each  instance  by  the  music  master. 

Finally,  toward  the  close  of  another  piano  duet, 
a  call  boy  came  to  the  door  of  Dorothy's  dressing- 
room  to  say: 

"  Herr  Deichenberg  says  tell  you  your  turn  is 
next,  and  you  will  please  come  at  once  and  wait  in 
the  wings." 

Most  girls  would  have  felt  a  flutter  of  excite- 
ment when  told  that  one  of  the  crucial  moments 
of  their  lives  was  at  hand.  Not  so  Dorothy  Cal- 
vert.  Her  hands  were  steady  and  her  confidence 
unbounded. 

Holding  her  skirt  slightly  off  the  stage,  that  her 
new  frock  might  present  a  spotless  appearance,  the 
girl,  yiolin  in  hand,  hurried  to  the  wings. 

The  encore  of  the  piano  duet  was  just  conclud- 
ing. Herr  Deichenberg  nodded  and  smiled  at  her. 
Then  the  players,  two  young  girls,  scarcely  older 
than  she,  arose,  and  with  graceful  bows,  tripped  off 
Ae  stage  within  a  few  feet  of  her,  their  faces 


182  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

flushed  with  pleasure  as  great  rounds  of  applause 
again  rolled  over  the  big  auditorium.  Herr  Deich- 
enberg  sent  them  out  for  another  bow,  after  which 
the  noise  simmered  down,  and  the  music  master 
turned  his  attention  to  the  next  number. 

The  curtain  was  not  lowered  between  numbers. 
There  was  merely  a  pause  as  the  orchestra  laid 
aside  one  set  of  music  and  turned  to  another. 

"  Be  ready  now,"  he  warned,  turning  to  Dorothy. 
"  You  enter  from  vhere  you  are,  valking  to  de  cen- 
ter of  de  stage,  down  near  de  footlights.  Smile, 
Miss  Dorothy,  und  do  not  put  your  violin  to  your 
shoulder  until  de  orchestra  is  half  way  t'rough  de 
introduction." 

The  girl  inclined  her  head  and  smiled  that  she 
understood.  Then,  at  a  nod  from  the  music  mas- 
ter, the  electrician  flashed  a  signal  to  the  orchestra. 
The  leader  raised  his  baton,  then  the  instruments 
swept  off  into  the  overture  of  the  piece  Dorothy  was 
to  play. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Herr,  giving  her  a  gentle  push. 

The  next  instant  Dorothy,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  found  herself  sweeping  out  on  a  great 
stage,  with  a  sea  of  faces  in  front  of  her.  She 
blinked  once  or  twice  as  the  footlights  flashed  in 
her  eyes,  then  singling  out  Aunt  Betty,  Jim  and 


HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT  183 

Len  —  having  previously  located  their  seats  —  she 
smiled  genially. 

In  the  center  of  the  great  stage,  but  a  few  feet 
back  from  the  footlights,  she  paused  as  Herr 
Deichenberg  had  told  her.  Then,  as  the  orchestra 
approached  the  end  of  the  overture,  she  raised  her 
violin  to  her  chin.  With  a  graceful  sweep  of  the 
bow  she  began. 

There  was  a  great  hush  over  the  auditorium,  as 
the  horns,  bass  viol  and  second  violins  left  off 
playing,  and  the  clear  notes  of  Dorothy's  instru- 
ment went  floating  into  every  corner  of  the  building, 
accompanied  by  soft  strains  from  the  piano  and 
first  violins.  The  piece  was  one  of  the  classics, 
recognized  immediately  by  everyone,  and  there  was- 
an  expectant  move  as  the  girl  reached  the  more 
difficult  parts. 

Her  eyes  closed,  her  body  swaying  slightly,  Doro- 
thy played  as  she  never  had  before.  She  forgot 
the  audience,  Aunt  Betty,  everything,  except  that 
here  was  a  great  orchestra  playing  her  accompani- 
ment —  surely  enough  encouragement  for  any  girl 
to  do  her  best. 

There  came  a  pause  in  the  music,  and  the  girl 
lowered  her  violin,  while  the  orchestra  played  on. 
There  was  a  slight  ripple  of  applause  from  several 


i84  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

in  the  audience,  who,  apparently,  thought  the  piece 
was  at  an  end,  but  this  died  away  as  the  girl  again 
raised  the  instrument  to  her  chin. 

The  second  part  was  even  more  difficult  than 
the  first,  but  Dorothy  swept  into  it  with  no  thought 
but  to  play  it  as  it  should  be  played.  Even  the 
eyes  of  the  orchestra  leader  lit  up  with  admiration, 
and  when  at  last  the  piece  was  concluded  with  a 
great  flourish,  and  Dorothy  had  bowed  herself  off 
into  the  wings,  the  applause  that  swept  over  the 
assemblage  was  louder  than  at  any  other  time  dur- 
ing the  evening. 

Herr  Deichenberg  patted  Dorothy  reassuringly 
on  the  back  as  she  stood  in  the  wings,  panting 
slightly  from  the  exertion  of  her  work,  and  well- 
pleased  that  so  much  of  the  ordeal  was  over. 

The  applause  continued  without  cessation  —  first, 
the  sharp  clapping  of  hands,  which  spread  over  the 
audience  as  if  by  magic,  finally  the  stamping  of 
feet;  later  shrill  whistles  from  the  gallery. 

"  It  means  for  you  an  encore,"  said  the  music 
master,  smiling  at  Dorothy.  Then  he  nodded  to 
the  electrician,  who  again  flashed  a  signal  to  the 
orchestra  leader,  and  the  musicians  struck  off  into 
the  overture  of  Dorothy's  second  piece. 

Bowing  rather  timidly,  but  with  much  grace,  the 


HERR  DEICHENBERCS  CONCERT          185 

girl  again  advanced  to  the  center  of  the  stage,  and 
gazed  out  for  a  moment  over  the  vast  ocean  of 
faces  which  stared  up  at  her.  Then  as  the  orches- 
tra finished  the  introduction,  she  again  raised  her 
violin  to  her  chin. 

The  second  piece  was  a  sad,  plaintive  one,  and 
as  Dorothy  drew  her  bow  full  length  across  the 
strings,  the  instrument  sent  forth  loud  wails,  which, 
to  anyone  with  a  keen  musical  ear,  denoted  mortal 
anguish.  This  was  followed  by  shorter,  quicker 
parts,  which  finally  resolved  themselves  into  the 
coming  of  a  storm.  On  her  G  string  the  girl 
brought  forth  all  the  terrors  of  the  elements,  run- 
ning the  whole  gamut  from  incessant  rumbling  to 
the  crashing  of  the  thunder,  while  the  orchestra 
supplied  effective  and  necessary  accompaniments. 

It  was  a  beautiful  piece  of  music,  well  played, 
and  when  Dorothy  had  finished  and  again  bowed 
herself  off  the  stage,  the  storm  of  applause  broke 
forth  again.  Under  Herr  Deichenberg's  direction 
she  took  three  bows  in  succession,  only  to  find  the 
applause,  if  anything,  more  pronounced. 

She  looked  at  the  music  master  for  her  cue.  He 
smilingly  said: 

"  Veil,  dey  seem  to  like  it.  You  may  play  an- 
other." 


i86  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Again  he  signaled  the  orchestra,  and  once  more 
Dorothy  Calvert  went  tripping  out  on  the  stage, 
gratitude  surging  in  her  heart  toward  that  great 
audience  which  had  been  so  kind  as  to  express  ap- 
proval of  her  work. 

This  time  it  was  a  medley  of  old  Southern  airs 
she  played.  The  audience  sat  spellbound  while  the 
strains  of  "Old  Black  Joe,"  and  "Old  Folks  at 
Home  "  were  heard  throughout  the  auditorium,  and 
when  Dorothy  swung  into  the  quick  measures  of 
her  beloved  "  Dixie,"  such  a  roar  shook  the  building 
as  Aunt  Betty  had  never  heard  before. 

Again  Dorothy  bowed  herself  off  into  the  first 
entrance.  Again  and  again  she  was  sent  forth  to 
bow  her  acknowledgments  —  to  bow  again  and 
again  until  she  was  forced  to  throw  up  her  hands 
in  token  of  the  fact  that  she  had  exhausted  her 
repertoire. 

The  applause  extended  well  into  the  beginning 
of  the  next  number,  and  the  young  lady  who  was; 
to  perform  on  the  piano  after  Dorothy,  refused  to 
go  on  the  stage  until  the  young  violinist  had  taken 
another  bow. 

Then  followed  the  appearance  of  Herr  Deichen- 
berg,  whose  reception  was  easily  the  greatest  of  the 
evening.  Dorothy  did  not  wait  to  hear  her  music 


HERR  DEICHENBERCS  CONCERT  187 

master  play,  but  hurried  off  to  her  dressing-room 
with  her  violin,  her  heart  singing  a  song  of  gladness. 

"  Thus  it  is,"  she  thought,  "  that  success  takes 
hold  of  our  sensibilities,  and  in  the  same  way  does 
failure  serve  to  discourage  one,  and  put  enthusiasm 
at  a  low  ebb." 

In  her  dressing-room  she  sat  and  heard  the 
thunders  of  applause  that  followed  the  Herr's  play- 
ing. Then,  after  a  short  wait,  when  the  audience 
was  quiet,  the  Herr  appeared  suddenly  at  the  door 
of  her  dressing-room.  With  him  was  a  smartly- 
dressed  stranger  who  bowed  and  extended  his  hand 
in  a  cordial  way  as  the  old  German  said : 

"  Miss  Calvert,  allow  me  to  introduce  Mr.  Lud- 
low,  de  theatrical  manager  from  New  York.  He 
happened  to  be  in  de  theater  during  your  perform- 
ance, and  he  hastened  back  to  talk  over  with  you 
a  few  matters  of  importance.  I  vill  leave  him  with 
you." 

The  Herr  disappeared,  and  after  inviting  Mr. 
Ludlow  to  have  a  seat,  Dorothy  reseated  herself 
and  turned  expectantly  toward  him. 

"  I  know  you  are  wondering  what  I  have  to  say 
to  you,  Miss  Calvert,  so  I  will  come  at  once  to  the 
point.  Being  in  the  theatrical  business,  I  am  natu- 
rally on  the  lookout  for  talent  along  various  lines. 


:88  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

I  have  been  vividly  impressed  with  your  playing 
to-night  and  I  felt  that  I  should  not  care  to  let  the 
opportunity  go  by  to  inquire  into  your  future  plans." 

This  was  put  partly  in  the  form  of  a  question 
and  the  girl  responded : 

"  Do  you  mean,  Mr.  Ludlow,  that  you  would  like 
to  offer  me  an  engagement  ?  " 

"  That  I  shall,  perhaps,  be  able  to  determine  when 
I  learn  your  plans." 

"  Well,  I  have  none.  My  lessons  are  not  over 
with  Herr  Deichenberg.  I  shall  be  under  his  in- 
struction until  next  spring,  at  least." 

"And  after  that?" 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  say.  Before  talking  over  arrange- 
ments with  you,  I  should  like  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  my  aunt,  Mrs.  Calvert." 

"  That  will  be  agreeable  to  me,  I  am  sure." 

"  But  she  is  out  in  front.  I  shall  be  unable  to 
see  her  until  the  concert  is  over." 

"  To-morrow  will  do,  Miss  Calvert.  I  merely 
wish  to-night  to  make  sure  you  do  not  sign  a  con- 
tract with  another  manager  without  giving  me  a 
chance." 

"  Oh,  I  can  safely  promise  that." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  content.  Where  can  I  see  you 
to-morrow  ?  " 


HERR  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT  189 

"  We  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  you  call  at  Bell- 
vieu." 

"Bellvieu,  Miss  Calvert?" 

"  Yes ;  our  home  in  the  suburbs.  I  had  forgotten 
you  were  not  a  native  Baltimorean." 

"  At  what  time  will  it  be  convenient  for  me  to 
call?" 

"  Either  in  the  morning  or  afternoon." 

"  Shall  we  say  ten  o'clock,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  trust  I  shall  not  inconvenience  your  aunt  by 
calling  so  early." 

"  Not  at  all." 

"It  is  imperative  that  I  catch  a  train  for  New 
York  at  twelve." 

Mr.  Ludlow  took  his  leave,  after  expressing  his 
pleasure  at  having  met  Dorothy. 

The  girl's  feelings  would  be  hard  to  describe. 
That  her  playing  should  have  awakened  the  interest 
of  a  professional  manager  was  to  her  rather  aston- 
ishing. 

She  was  meditating  over  the  offer,  and  wonder- 
ing what  her  prim  and  staid  Aunt  Betty  would 
think  of  it,  when  Frau  Deichenberg  entered  the 
dressing-room.  The  Frau  had  been  on  the  stage 
looking  after  several  of  the  Herr's  proteges,  and 


J9o  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

was  highly  elated  over  the  showing  they  had  made. 

"  My  dear,  my  dear,"  she  cried.  "  You  have 
done  nobly !  Herr  Deichenberg  is  pleased  with  you 
beyond  measure." 

To  which  Dorothy  responded : 

"  If  I  have  deserved  his  praise,  I  am  glad.  But 
it  seems  that  I  have  done  so  little." 

"Ah,  but  did  you  not  hear  de  audience?  Dey 
liked  your  moosic,  und  dey  clap  their  hands  und 
stamp  their  feet.  Dat  iss  de  one  true  mark  of 
appreciation." 

When  the  concert  was  over  and  Dorothy  was 
traveling  homeward  in  the  barouche  with  Aunt 
Betty,  she  told  her  of  the  visit  of  Mr.  Ludlow. 
Aunt  Betty  listened  patiently  until  she  had  finished, 
then  said: 

"  Dear,  I  had  supposed  I  was  raising  you  up 
to  something  better  than  a  stage  career." 

"  But,  auntie,  the  stage  is  all  right  —  it  must  be, 
there  are  so  many  fine  people  connected  with  it. 
And  then,  it  would  be  the  concert  stage  in  my  case, 
and  that  is  different  from  dramatic  work,  you 
know." 

"  Yes ;  but  violinists,  as  well  as  other  performers, 
sometimes  listen  to  the  call  of  the  dollar,  and  go 
from  the  concert  to  the  variety  stage.  I  am  not 


HERE  DEICHENBERG'S  CONCERT          191 

sure  such  connections  would  be  the  best  for  my 
little  girl." 

"  But,  Aunt  Betty,  it  is  my  life's  ambition,"  said 
the  girl,  a  queer  little  catch  in  her  voice. 

"  There,  there,"  Aunt  Betty  responded,  as  she 
put  her  arm  about  the  shoulder  of  her  great-niece. 
"  Don't  take  what  I  say  so  much  to  heart.  We  will 
think  this  matter  over,  and  you  may  be  very  sure 
of  one  thing,  dear  —  we  shall  do  what  is  right  and 
for  the  best." 

And  with  this  for  the  time  being  Dorothy  was 
forced  to  be  content. 

The  matter  was  put  in  abeyance  for  an  indefinite 
time,  however,  by  a  message  from  Mr.  Ludlow,  the 
following  morning,  in  which  he  said  he  had  been 
called  back  to  New  York  earlier  than  he  had  ex- 
pected, but  that  he  would  not  forget  the  girl,  and 
upon  his  next  visit  to  Baltimore  during  the  course 
of  the  fall  or  winter,  he  would  arrange  to  call  and 
settle  matters  to  Dorothy's  entire  satisfaction. 

"  And  who  knows,  by  then  I  may  have  won  Aunt 
Betty  over,"  muttered  the  girl,  who,  however,  de- 
cided to  drop  the  subject  until  the  opportune  mo- 
ment arrived  to  discuss  it 


THE  fall  days  slipped  rapidly  by,  and  still  Doro- 
thy continued  to  take  instruction  from  Herr  Deich- 
enberg,  improving  her  technique  with  each  lesson 
under  the  old  music  master's  careful  guidance. 
The  concert  had  been  a  revelation  to  her.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  had  stood  before  a  great 
assemblage  and  heard  the  roars  of  applause  which 
her  playing  aroused,  and  it  had  given  her  confi- 
dence as  nothing  else  could. 

Aunt  Betty's  deep-rooted  prejudice  against  a 
stage  career  was  the  only  thing  that  served  to  mar 
the  girl's  pleasure,  and  even  this  caused  no  great 
unhappiness,  for  Aunt  Betty's  refusal  to  allow 
Dorothy  to  play  professional  engagements  took  the 
form  only  of  feeble  protests.  This  led  the  girl  to 
hope  her  relative  might  gradually  be  won  over. 

Then,  as  the  holidays  approached,  bringing  a  let- 
ter from  Molly  in  which  she  stated  that  she  and 
the  Judge  would  arrive  at  Bellvieu  several  days 
before  Christmas,  the  stage  career  was  for  the  time 
192 


CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU  igj 

relegated  to  the  innermost  recesses  of  her  mind, 
and  she  joined  Aunt  Betty  in  an  effort  to  have  a 
real,  old-fashioned  Christmas.  This,  with  the  aid 
of  Ephraim,  Dinah  and  Chloe,  they  were  fortu- 
nately able  to  do.  As  the  preparations  went  for- 
ward, Aunt  Betty's  delight  knew  no  bounds,  and  her 
soul  was  filled  with  rapturousness  as  joy  after  joy 
unfolded  itself  to  relieve  the  tedium  and  monotony 
of  her  old  age. 

A  week  before  the  eventful  day,  Ephraim  and 
Metty,  with  two  other  negroes,  hired  for  the  occa- 
sion, took  a  team  and  sleigh  and  set  out  for  the 
timber  along  the  shore  of  the  bay.  There  had  been 
a  heavy  fall  of  snow  the  night  before  and  the  ground 
was  covered  with  a  sparkling  mantle,  while  an  in- 
vigorating breeze  from  the  north  filled  everyone 
with  energetic  desires. 

Once  at  their  destination  Ephraim  and  his  men 
felled  a  large  black  gum  tree  from  which  two  logs 
were  cut.  These  were  just  short  of  four  feet  in 
length  and  cut  with  the  especial  purpose  of  filling 
the  two  large  fire-places  in  the  Calvert  mansion. 

Returning  late  in  the  evening  with  their  load,  they 
rolled  the  big  logs  into  the  duck  pond  back  of  the 
barn,  where  the  crust  of  ice  was  thin,  there  to  soak 
until  Christmas  morning,  at  which  time  they  would 


194  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

be  placed  in  their  respective  fire-places  in  the  big 
dining  and  living-rooms  of  the  house,  and  a  fire 
kindled. 

Ephraim  was  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  old  cus- 
tom, and  it  was  understood  between  him  and  Aunt 
Betty  that  he  should  keep  good  fires  burning  dur- 
ing the  day  and  banked  during  the  night  after  bed 
time.  Logs  such  as  these  would,  by  this  process, 
last  ten  days,  or  until  the  holidays  had  come  and 
gone,  for  they  were  burned  until  not  a  vestige  re- 
mained but  ashes. 

During  the  latter  part  of  November  Aunt  Betty 
had  caused  a  half  dozen  of  her  finest  turkeys  to  be 
put  up  to  fatten.  Some  days  later  several  huge 
pound  cakes  had  been  baked  and  a  nice  little  pig 
put  in  the  pen  to  grow  round  and  tender,  later  to  be 
roasted  whole,  with  a  tempting  red  apple  in  his 
mouth.  Mincemeat,  souse,  and  stuffed  sausages, 
those  edibles  of  the  early  days,  which  Aunt  Betty 
had  grown  to  love  and  yearn  for,  were  provided 
on  this  occasion  by  Chloe  and  Dinah,  and  when,  a 
few  days  before  Christmas,  Metty  returned  from 
the  woods  with  a  fine,  fat  possum,  the  mistress  of 
Bellvieu  began  to  feel  that  her  Christmas  would  be 
indeed  complete. 

A  store  of  sweet  potatoes  had  been  laid  by,  and 


CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU  195 

green  apple,  pumpkin,  potato  and  other  pies  made 
and  stored  in  the  cellar. 

In  the  days  of  Aunt  Betty's  girlhood,  when  there 
were  no  cooking  stoves,  turkeys  were  cooked  in  a 
turkey  roaster  made  of  sheet  iron,  with  a  dripping- 
pan  in  the  bottom  and  a  large  tin  lid,  much  resem- 
bling a  buggy  top,  over  the  pan.  When  Mr.  Turkey 
was  stuffed  and  otherwise  prepared  for  the  feast, 
he  was  spitted  on  an  iron  rod  that  passed  through 
the  sides  of  the  roaster  and  on  through  his  body 
from  end  to  end.  Then  he  was  ready  for  the  finish- 
ing touches  over  a  red-hot  fire.  The  roasters  had 
legs  at  each  corner,  so  that  hot  embers  could  be 
placed  under  it  when  necessary.  The  tin  top  re- 
flected the  heat  and  had  hinges  so  that  it  could  be 
turned  back  when  the  cook  basted  the  turkey  with 
a  prepared  sauce.  The  dripping-pan  at  the  bottom 
served  to  catch  and  hold  the  rich  gravy. 

As  Aunt  Betty  stood  now,  watching  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  roasting  of  one  of  the  turkeys,  her 
thoughts  traveled  back  to  those  other  days,  and 
she  marveled  at  the  progress  of  civilization. 

"  Lawsee,  Mis'  Betty ! "  cried  Chloe,  as  she 
stopped  to  wipe  her  hands  on  her  gingham  apron. 
"  We's  gwine  tuh  hab  'nuff  food  in  dis  yere  house 
tuh  feed  er  million  people,  looks  like  tuh  me." 


196  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Aunt  Betty  laughed. 

"  Better  too  much  than  not  enough,"  she  ob- 
served. "  I  reckon  there  won't  be  much  left  by  the 
time  New  Year's  Day  has  come  and  gone.  Gerald 
and  Aurora  Blank  will  be  over  for  Christmas  din- 
ner, and  will  drop  in  for  occasional  meals  during 
holiday  week.  Then,  with  Miss  Molly  and  her  fa- 
ther, and  Herr  and  Frau  Deichenberg,  there  will 
be  a  nice  little  party  here  at  home.  Those  boys, 
Jim  and  Len,  have  appetites  that  will  startle  you. 
Oh,  yes;  we  have  lots  to  eat,  Chloe,  but  —  well, 
you  just  watch  it  disappear!" 

"  Yas'm ;  we'll  watch  hit,  all  right,  en  I  reckon, 
Mis'  Betty,  dat  Ephy,  Dinah  en  me'll  sort  o'  help  it 
disappear,  too ! " 

Chloe,  bending  nearly  double,  guffawed  loudly  at 
her  own  joke. 

Aunt  Betty  smiled,  too,  then  went  to  the  front  of 
the  house  to  meet  the  carriage  which  had  been  sent 
to  the  train,  with  Dorothy  and  Jim  in  it,  to  meet 
Judge  Breckenridge  and  Molly. 

Dorothy's  chum  waved  her  hand  at  Aunt  Betty, 
then  came  hurrying  up  the  walk,  to  be  the  first  to 
greet  the  mistress  of  Bellvieu.  Then  came  the 
Judge,  cane  in  hand,  assisted  by  Jim,  looking  much 
better,  but  still  somewhat  enfeebled  in  health. 


CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU  197 

"  I'm  glad  indeed  to  see  you  again,  Judge  Breck- 
enridge,"  greeted  Aunt  Betty,  as  she  clasped  one 
of  his  hands  in  both  her  own.  "  I  am  particularly 
pleased  to  be  able  to  welcome  you  to  a  Christmas 
at  Bellvieu." 

"  And  I  am  more  than  pleased  to  be  here,"  was 
the  Judge's  response.  "  I  am  sure  it  will  be  one 
of  the  most  delightful  trips  of  my  life." 

Once  inside,  and  ensconced  in  easy  chairs  in  the 
living-room,  Aunt  Betty  pressed  him  for  news  con- 
cerning his  sister,  Lucretia,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Hunger- 
ford,  Mrs.  Stark  and  Mrs.  Cook,  not  forgetting  to 
ask  if  the  Judge  ever  heard  from  Joel  Snacken- 
berg.  These  questions  answered  to  her  entire  sat- 
isfaction, Aunt  Betty  excused  herself  to  see  to  the 
preparing  of  the  mid-day  meal,  leaving  Jim  to  talk 
to  the  Judge. 

"  I  haven't  seen  you  in  a  long  time,  my  boy," 
said  Molly's  father,  "  but  it  seems  to  me  you  are 
growing  into  a  fine,  strong  young  man.  Molly  tells 
me  you've  left  Dr.  Sterling  for  good." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  thought  I'd  better  strike  out  for  my- 
self." 

"  And  what  do  you  intend  doing,  if  I  may  ask?  " 

"  I  intend  learning  electricity,  sir  —  in  fact,  it  is 
on  Dr.  Sterling's  advice  that  I  do  so.  Aunt  Betty 


ip8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

through  some  of  her  friends  here,  has  arranged  to 
secure  me  a  place  the  first  of  the  year.  I  have  been 
idle  during  the  past  few  months  waiting  for  this 
position  to  materialize,  and  I'm  certainly  glad  it  is 
coming  out  all  right." 

"  You  will  have  to  serve  an  apprenticeship,  I  sup- 
pose?" > 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  electricity  is  a  good  thing  to  know,  Jim. 
I  wish  you  every  success.  Hello  —  who  is  this?" 

The  Judge's  eyes  were  turned  toward  a  lad  who 
entered  the  room  at  that  moment.  It  was  Len 
Haley,  attired  in  a  brand  new  Christmas  suit,  and 
looking  as  spick  and  span  as  one  could  wish. 

"  Oh,  I'd  forgotten  you  didn't  know  Len,  sir. 
Surely  you've  heard  Molly  speak  of  Len  Haley,  sir? 
He's  the  boy  we  rescued  from  a  cruel  uncle  on  our 
camping  trip  last  summer.  Aunt  Betty  has  had 
him  under  her  wing  ever  since.  This  is  Molly's 
father,  Len." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  Judge.  "  So  this  is  Len 
Haley,  the  boy  who  was  lost  in  the  woods  in  the 
dead  of  night?"  The  judge  reached  out  and  took 
Len's  hand.  "  I  am  glad  to  know  you,  my  boy,  and 
to  learn  that  you  have  found  such  a  fortunate  way 
around  your  troubles." 


CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU  199 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

"  Anyone  whom  Mrs.  Betty  Calvert  stands  spon- 
sor for  is  surely  to  be  envied." 

"  I  think  so  too,  sir,"  said  Len,  beginning  to  thaw 
out  under  Judge  Breckenridge's  good-natured 
smile. 

When  Dorothy  and  Molly  came  downstairs  and 
joined  them,  they  made  a  merry  party.  Molly  had 
changed  her  traveling  dress  for  a  clean  frock,  and 
with  her  hair  arranged  prettily  in  the  latest  mode, 
made  even  Jim  Barlow  "  sit  up  and  take  notice." 
As  for  the  Judge  and  his  gayety,  if  old  in  years, 
he  was  young  in  heart,  and  forgot  his  infirmities  to 
such  an  extent  that  Aunt  Betty,  entering  suddenly, 
threw  up  her  hands  in  amazement. 

"  I  knew  this  trip  would  make  a  wonderful  im- 
provement in  you,  Judge,"  said  she,  "  but  had  no 
idea  the  change  would  be  effected  in  so  rapid  a 
manner." 

"  I  just  can't  help  it,  Mrs.  Calvert.  To  see  these 
young  folks  about  me  makes  me  feel  young  again, 
which  reminds  me  that  I  have  never  been  happier 
than  when  I  once  took  the  boys  and  girls  on  a  jaunt 
through  the  Nova  Scotia  woods." 

"  A  jaunt  that  ended  in  my  giving  a  house  party 
at  Deerhurst,"  said  Dorothy.  "  That  was  after  I 


300  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

had  learned  that  I  was  not  a  homeless  waif,  but  the 
great-niece  of  Mrs.  Betty  Calvert." 

"  It  was  papa,  if  you  remember,  who  ran  down 
the  clues  leading  to  the  discovery  that  Mrs.  Calvert 
was  your  relative,"  said  Molly. 

"  And  I'll  never  forget  how  overjoyed  we  all 
were  when  we  knew  to  whom  our  girl  friend  was 
related,"  and  the  old  Judge  leaned  over  and  stroked 
Dorothy's  hand  as  he  spoke. 

"  Then  came  my  humiliation,"  said  Aunt  Betty 
in  a  reminiscent  tone.  "  I  was  forced  to  admit  to 
you  all  that  when  my  nephew's  baby  came  I  was  in- 
dignant, feeling  that  I  was  too  old  to  have  a  squalling 
infant  forced  upon  me.  Then,  better  thoughts  pre- 
vailing, I  saw  in  Dorothy  traces  of  my  own  family 
likeness  and  wanted  to  keep  her.  Then  I  listened 
to  Dinah  and  Ephraim,  and  finally  took  their  ad- 
vice to  hunt  up  a  worthy  couple  unburdened  with 
children  of  their  own,  and  force  the  child  upon 
them  to  be  reared  in  simple,  sensible  ways.  When 
I  found  that  you  had  discovered  the  relationship 
between  us,  I  did  only  what  my  heart  had  been 
bidding  me  do  for  many  years  —  took  Dorothy  to 
my  bosom,  and  into  my  household  where  she  be- 
longed." 

Dinah  came  to  the  door  to  say  that  lunch  was 


CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU  aoi 

served,  and  the  party  filed  into  the  dining-room  to 
continue  the  discussion  at  the  table. 

On  the  following  morning  —  the  day  before 
Christmas  —  a  great  bundle  of  presents  arrived 
from  one  of  the  Baltimore  department  stores,  and 
was  taken  upstairs  by  Ephraim,  there  to  be  con- 
cealed. 

On  the  night  before  Christmas,  following  the 
time-honored  custom,  stockings  of  every  size  and 
color  were  strung  up  around  the  big  fire-place  in 
the  living-room.  Those  of  the  Judge,  Jim  and  Len 
not  being  large  enough,  garments  of  a  satisfactory 
size  were  generously  tendered  by  Dorothy  and 
Molly.  Going  late  to  bed,  hoping  that  old  Santa 
Claus  would  be  good  to  each  of  them,  the  young 
folks  awoke  in  the  morning  to  find  their  stockings 
fairly  bulging  with  good  things. 

There  was  a  cane  and  a  pocketbook  from  the 
Judge  to  Jim,  and  wearing  apparel  running  from 
neckties  to  shirts  from  Aunt  Betty  and  the  girls. 
Len  came  in  for  a  similar  lot  of  presents,  his  gift 
from  the  Judge  being  a  shining  five-dollar  gold 
piece,  which  he  declared  should  go  in  the  savings 
bank  as  a  foundation  of  his  fortune. 

Dorothy  and  Molly  were  well  remembered,  the 
gifts  being  both  pretty  and  useful,  and  running 


202  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

principally  to  toilet  articles  and  lingerie,  while  Aunt 
Betty  found  great  difficulty  in  lifting  her  stocking 
from  its  peg  over  the  fire-place,  so  heavy  was  it. 

Early  Christmas  morning  came  a  belated  'phone 
message  from  Herr  Deichenberg,  accepting  on  the 
part  of  him  and  Frau  Deichenberg,  the  kind  invita- 
tion extended  by  Aunt  Betty  to  gather  around  the 
festive  Christmas  board.  It  had  been  necessary  to 
postpone  two  lessons,  the  music  master  said,  which 
accounted  for  the  delay  in  letting  them  know. 

At  ten  o'clock  Gerald  and  Aurora  arrived. 
There  had  been  a  slight  protest  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Blank  at  the  children  being  away  from 
home  for  Christmas  dinner,  but  a  compromise  had 
been  effected  by  which  they  were  to  eat  with  their 
parents  on  New  Year's  Day. 

With  the  arrival  of  Herr  and  Frau  Deichenberg 
nothing  ^then  remained  but  to  serve  the  dinner. 
Metty  and  Ephraim  were  both  pressed  into  service, 
and  with  Chloe  and  Dinah  working  like  Trojans 
in  the  kitchen,  the  meal  was  served  on  scheduled 
time,  and  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  everyone 
concerned. 

Tale  and  jest  passed  around  the  table,  as  the 
members  of  the  Christmas  party  made  merry. 

"  Christmas  comes  but  once  a  year,"  some  one 


CHRISTMAS  AT  BELLVIEU  203 

has  said,  and  with  this  in  their  minds,  trouble  was 
given  its  conge  for  the  time  being,  and  mirth  and 
gayety  reigned  supreme. 

Herr  Deichenberg  was  asked  to  tell  of  the  old 
German  customs  at  Christmas  time,  which  he  did 
in  an  interesting  way.  He  told  of  the  toymakers 
of  Nuremberg  and  other  citjes,  and  how  easily  and 
dexterously  they  did  their  work.  Then  there  were 
many  humorous  incidents  of  his  own  boyhood, 
which  he  remembered  and  told  with  such  success, 
that  he  had  the  entire  party  roaring  with  laughter 
before  the  meal  was  half  over. 

When  he  had  finished,  the  Judge  and  Aunt  Betty 
took  turns  telling  of  strange  and  funny  incidents 
that  had  come  under  their  observation  at  various 
Christmas  times,  and  by  the  time  dessert  was 
reached  everyone  felt  at  peace  with  the  world. 

It  was  a  dinner  long  to  be  remembered,  and  when 
it  was  over  they  all  gathered  in  the  living-room, 
where  the  Herr  was  induced  to  play  a  number  of 
his  favorite  pieces,  Dorothy's  violin  being  pressed 
into  service  for  the  occasion. 

Dorothy  next  took  her  turn  with  the  violin,  Herr 
Deichenberg  playing  her  accompaniments  on  the 
piano.  Molly,  who  had  not  heard  her  chum  play 
for  many  months,  was  astonished  at  the  progress 


204  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

she  had  made,  as  was  the  Judge,  and  they  compli- 
mented both  master  and  pupil,  after  three  pieces 
had  been  rendered.  The  players  then  stopped 
under  protest,  promising  to  play  more  before  the 
gathering  broke  up. 

Jim  sang  a  bass  solo.  Gerald  also  rendered  a 
song,  his  sweet  tenor  voice  delighting  his  auditors, 
after  which  the  old  quartette  of  the  mountain  camp 
was  formed  again  and  sang  familiar  pieces  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  win  the  heartiest  of  commendation 
from  all  —  even  that  captious  critic,  Herr  Deichen- 
berg. 

Aunt  Betty  was  asked  to  speak  one  of  her  girl- 
hood pieces,  but  begged  to  be  allowed  to  substitute 
old  Ephraim,  who,  upon  being  urged,  recited  the 
following  verses,  remembered  since  his  earliest 
recollection : 

"  Sho'  'miff,  is  dat  yo',  buddie  ? 

Why,  I  sca'ce  beliebs  mah  eyes! 
Yo's  growed  so  slendah  en  so  tall, 

I  like  not  tub  know  yo'  size. 
Does  yo'  eber  hunt  de  possum  — 

Climb  de  ole  p'simmon  tree? 
Like  we  did  in  de  good  ole  times 

Wen  de  niggah  wasn't  free? 
We'd  take  ole  Tige,  en  den  a  torch, 

Den  we'd  start  out  fo'  a  spree, 
Lots  o'  fellers  wuz  in  dat  chase, 

Erside,  mah  boy,  frum  yo'  en  me, 


205 

After  a  w'ile  ole  Tige'd  yelp, 

Den  we'd  know  dar's  sumpthin'  round, 
Er  rabbit,  coon,  er  possum,  sho', 

Er  gittin'  ober  de  ground. 
Wen  up  de  tree  de  possum  run, 

Den  ole  Tige  he'd  change  he  tune, 
Den  wif  de  torch  we'd  shine  his  eyes 

Den  we'd  nab  him  pretty  soon, 
We'd  break  he  neck,  en  build  er  fire 

Den  a  tater  roast,  yo'  mind; 
Why,  bress  yo'  heart,  dis  make  me  cry, 

Nebber  mo'  dem  times  yo'  find. 
De  Massa's  gone  —  ole  Missus,  gone, 

En  mah  ole  woman  am,  too ; 
I'm  laid  up  now  wif  rheumatiz, 

En  mah  days  am  growin'  few. 
Ole  Tige  mos'  blind  en  crippled  up, 

So  dat  he  can't  hunt  no  mo' ; 
No  possums  now  tub.  grease  de  chops, 

Oh,  I's  feelin'  mighty  po' !  " 

As  Ephraim  concluded  he  made  a  most  elaborate 
bow,  touching  his  hand  to  his  forelock  —  or  where 
the  forelock  should  have  been. 

The  old  negro's  interested  listeners  burst  into 
loud  applause,  and  the  bow  was  repeated  again  and 
again.  The  verses  had  been  rendered  with  consid- 
erable feeling  and  some  sense  of  their  poetic  value, 
which,  of  course,  Ephraim  had  learned  from  hear- 
ing the  verses  recited  by  others. 

Len  Haley,  upon  being  called  on  for  a  contribu- 
tion to  the  entertainment,  spoke  the  first  —  and  last 


206  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

—  piece  he  had  learned  during  the  few  short  months 
he  had  attended  school.  It  was  a  temperance  piece, 
and  if  not  thoroughly  in  keeping  with  the  festive 
occasion,  was  at  least  one  of  the  most  earnest  ef- 
forts of  the  afternoon. 

Aurora,  who  was  an  elocutionist  of  no  mean 
merit,  rendered  Longfellow's  "  Hiawatha,"  with 
with  such  realistic  touches  that  Herr  Deichenberg 
sat  spellbound  through  her  recital,  to  spring  up  and 
grasp  her  hand  when  she  had  finished. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  he  cried,  "  dat  was  excellent  — 
excellent.  I  am  proud,  indeed,  to  know  you." 

"  I  trust  you  will  never  have  occasion  to  change 
your  mind,"  was  the  girl's  pleasant  response. 

The  entertainment  over,  Herr  Deichenberg  and 
Judge  Breckenridge  engaged  in  a  checker  contest, 
which  was  so  closely  fought  that  the  others  stopped 
whatever  they  were  doing  to  look  on.  The  Herr 
was  finally  triumphant,  taking  four  games  out  of 
seven. 

When  the  Christmas  party  broke  up  that  evening, 
all  were  agreed  that  it  had  been  one  of  the  most 
glorious  holiday  times  they  had  ever  spent. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MR.    LUDLOW'S   OFFER 

THE  holidays  passed  all  too  quickly  to  the  happy 
party  at  Old  Bellvieu.  Herr  and  Frau  Deichen- 
berg  came  no  more  during  the  stay  of  the  Judge 
and  Molly,  but  Gerald  and  Aurora  were  over  nearly 
every  evening. 

One  night,  toward  the  close  of  the  week,  Aunt 
Betty  and  the  Judge  chaperoned  a  party  of  young 
people,  including  Dorothy,  Molly,  Aurora,  Gerald, 
Jim  and  Len  to  the  theater,  where  one  of  the  reign- 
ing comic  opera  successes  was  on  view.  It  was  an 
imported  piece  of  the  "  Merry  Widow  "  type,  and 
everyone  enjoyed  it  to  the  utmost.  Aunt  Betty  and 
the  Judge  found  their  risibilities  thoroughly  shaken 
by  the  antics  of  the  star,  a  comedian  of  prominence, 
while  the  tastes  of  the  young  people  seemed  to  in- 
cline toward  the  bright  chorus  numbers,  and  the 
individual  songs  and  duets. 

Len  was  perhaps  the  most  joyous  member  of  the 
party.  It  was  his  first  experience  at  the  theater, 
and  the  elaborate  stage  settings,  the  bright  lights, 

207 


208  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

and  the  catchy  music  had  opened  to  him  the  gates 
of  Fairyland,  as  it  were. 

When  one  of  the  characters  cracked  a  joke,  and 
the  comedian  replied  that  he  was  very  fond  of 
walnuts  and  hickory  nuts,  but  not  at  all  partial  to 
chestnuts,  Len  nearly  fell  out  of  his  seat,  and  the 
young  lady  who  followed  them  on  the  stage  was 
well  through  her  song  before  he  controlled  his  laugh- 
ter enough  to  realize  what  was  going  on. 

Len's  merriment  so  pleased  Aunt  Betty  and 
Judge  Breckenridge  that  they,  too,  burst  into 
laughter,  which  continued  until  a  whispered  "  Sh ! " 
from  Dorothy  warned  them  that  they  were  attract- 
ing the  attention  of  others  in  the  theater.  Then 
the  Judge  put  his  finger  to  his  lips  and  looked 
solemnly  at  Len  and  Aunt  Betty,  whereupon  the 
trio  instantly  became  sober,  and  turned  their  at- 
tention again  to  the  stage. 

After  the  theater  the  Judge  insisted  on  treating 
the  party  to  hot  chocolate  and  cake,  so  they  were 
led  to  a  popular  resort  often  frequented  during  the 
days  by  Dorothy  and  Aurora.  This  served  to 
round  off  a  very  pleasant  evening,  and  as  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  each  member  of  the  party  from 
sleeping  late  the  following  morning,  their  happi- 
ness was  complete. 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  209 

So  urgently  did  Aunt  Betty  and  Dorothy  beg 
Molly  and  the  Judge  to  spend  the  early  part  of 
January  with  them,  that  the  Judge  consented, 
greatly  to  Molly's  delight. 

"  Business  really  demands  my  attention  in  New 
York,"  he  said,  "  but  I  suppose  that  can  wait  an- 
other week.  We  don't  have  times  like  this  every 
year,  do  we  Molly,  girl  ? " 

"  Indeed,  no,"  responded  the  person  addressed. 

"  But  it  will  not  be  my  fault  hereafter,  if  you 
do  not  have  them  each  year,"  said  Aunt  Betty.  "  I 
hereby  issue  a  standing  invitation  for  you  both  to 
spend  the  next  holiday  season  with  us,  and  the 
next,  and  the  next,  and  so  on,  and  next  year,  Judge, 
you  must  bring  your  sister  Lucretia.  It  was  an 
oversight  on  my  part  in  not  inviting  her  on  this 
occasion." 

"  Lucretia  has  been  very  busy  doing  some  set- 
tlement work,  and  Christmas  is  her  busy  time, 
hence,  she  would  have  been  unable  to  accept  your 
kind  invitation.  Next  year,  however,  things  may 
have  changed.  If  so,  we  shall  certainly  bring  her 
with  us." 

There  followed  a  succession  of  trips  to  nearby 
points  of  interest.  The  snow,  which  lay  thick 
during  the  holidays,  began  to  melt  soon  after  the 


2io  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

new  year  dawned,  and,  the  roads  drying  hard, 
Gerald  came  over  one  day  in  the  auto  and  took 
them  for  a  jaunt  in  the  country. 

A  fishing  excursion  to  the  shores  of  the  bay  on 
another  day,  with  Jim  and  Ephraim  as  the  pilots, 
served  to  demonstrate  to  the  Judge  that  he  was 
every  bit  as  good  a  fisherman  as  he  had  been  in  the 
early  days,  for  he  caught  eight  speckled  sea-trout, 
and  three  red-fish  —  a  better  record  than  was  made 
by  any  other  member  of  the  party. 

Finally,  the  Judge  and  Molly  took  their  de- 
parture, the  former  declaring  that  the  duties  in 
New  York  had  become  imperative  ones.  Dorothy 
hated  to  lose  her  chum  again,  they  saw  each  other 
so  seldom,  but  agreed  with  Molly  that  the  latter 
must  spend  some  time  in  her  own  home. 

Then,  as  February  passed,  and  the  winds  of 
March  began  to  make  themselves  felt,  things  set- 
tled down  to  their  usual  routine  at  Bellvieu. 

Dorothy,  who  had  resumed  her  lessons  immedi- 
ately upon  Molly's  departure,  was  fast  approach- 
ing a  point  where,  Herr  Deichenberg  declared,  she 
would  be  able  to  appear  before  an  audience  in  the 
most  critical  of  musical  centers.  He  advised  that 
she  immediately  seek  the  opportunity,  or  allow  him 
to  seek  one  for  her. 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  211 

Again  Aunt  Betty  interposed  a  mild  objection, 
and  the  music  master,  with  a  sly  wink  at  Dorothy, 
observed  under  his  breath: 

"  Just  leave  it  to  me." 

This  Dorothy  did,  and  with  good  results,  as  will 
be  seen. 

She  dropped  the  subject  entirely  when  Aunt 
Betty  was  around,  resolved  to  wait  until  the  psycho- 
logical moment  arrived  to  again  broach  the  matter, 
or  until  she  heard  further  from  Herr  Deichenberg. 

Two  weeks  passed  and  finally  Herr  Deichenberg 
came  out  to  the  house  one  morning  with  Mr.  Lud- 
low,  whom  he  presented  to  Aunt  Betty. 

At  first  the  mistress  of  Bellvieu  was  inclined  to 
receive  the  theatrical  man  coldly,  believing  he  had 
come  to  entice  her  niece  away,  but  gradually,  under 
Herr  Deichenberg's  careful  urging,  she  began  to 
see  matters  in  a  new  light. 

"  Mr.  Ludlow  has  no  desire  to  take  Miss  Doro- 
thy avay  from  you,"  said  the  Herr,  earnestly. 
"  Please  believe  me  vhen  I  tell  you.  Also  believe 
me  vhen  I  say  dat  all  of  Miss  Dorothy's  lessons 
vill  go  for  naught,  if  she  does  not  seek  a  time  und 
place  to  exploit  her  talents.  There  is  open  for  her 
a  career  of  great  prominence  —  of  dat  I  am  very 
sure,  but  to  attain  de  pinnacle  of  success,  she  must 


212  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

first  go  a  few  steps  above  de  middle  rounds  of  de 
ladder.  Mr.  Ludlow  has  a  good  proposition  to 
make  to  her,  und  one  dat  meets  with  my  hearty  ap- 
proval. I  beg  of  you,  Mrs.  Calvert,  listen  carefully 
to  vhat  he  has  to  say,  und  deliberate  before  you  give 
him  an  answer." 

"  If  Dorothy's  welfare  is  at  stake  I  shall  listen, 
of  course;  I  should  have  listened,  anyway,  but  with 
some  prejudice,  I  will  admit.  I  cannot  see  where 
it  will  do  my  niece  any  great  good  to"  become  a 
stage  celebrity,  but  if  Mr.  Ludlow  can  convince  me, 
I  stand  ready  to  acknowledge  my  error." 

"  I  am  sure  that  is  fair  enough,"  said  Mr.  Lud- 
low, smiling  genially.  He  had  a  pleasant  person- 
ality —  refined,  even  striking  in  the  more  serious 
moments,  and  Aunt  Betty  felt  attracted  to  him  the 
instant  he  began  to  speak. 

"  A  career  for  your  niece,  Mrs.  Calvert  —  a  pro- 
fessional career  —  under  proper  management,  is 
distinctly  the  proper  thing  for  her.  I  heard  her 
play  at  Herr  Deichenberg's  concert  here  last  fall, 
and  knew  at  once  that  she  had  an  exceptional 
amount  of  talent,  which,  if  fostered,  under  the 
Herr's  careful  methods,  would  make  of  her  one  of 
the  musical  wonders  of  the  age.  It  was  then  I 
made  my  offer  —  which  was  merely  a  tentative  one 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  213 

' —  to  Miss  Calvert,  not  meaning  to  in  any  way  over- 
ride your  authority,  but  merely  for  the  purpose  of 
sounding  her  out  and  winning  a  promise  that  she 
would  give  me  an  option  on  her  services,  provided 
she  decided  to  adopt  the  concert  stage  as  a  career." 

"  She  told  me  of  her  conversation  with  you,"  re- 
turned Aunt  Betty,  "  and  I  am  free  to  admit  that  I 
was  prejudiced  against  it." 

"  You  were  also  prejudiced  against  riding  fast  in 
Gerald's  automobile,  auntie,"  said  Dorothy,  smiling. 
"  But  Gerald  overcame  that  just  as  Mr.  Ludlow  is 
going  to  try  to  overcome  this." 

"  From  speeding  in  an  automobile,  to  adopting 
the  concert  stage  as  a  career,  is  a  far  cry,  my  dear," 
returned  Aunt  Betty,  rather  severely,  Dorothy 
thought. 

Had  she  known  what  was  passing  in  her  rela- 
tive's mind,  however,  the  girl  would  not  for  a  mo- 
ment have  condemned  her.  Had  she  known,  for 
instance,  that  Aunt  Betty's  prejudice  against  the 
stage  as  a  career  was  not  at  the  bottom  of  her  re- 
fusal, but  the  fact  that  she  feared  Dorothy  would 
be  taken  away  from  her  in  her  old  age,  just  when 
she  had  found  her  a  second  time,  and  learned  to 
know  and  love  her,  she  would  have  immediately 
thrown  her  arms  around  Aunt  Betty*  neck  and 


214  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

making  no  comment  have  kissed  her  affectionately. 

"  Of  course,  I  do  not  know  the  state  of  your 
finances,  nor  would  I  be  so  presuming  as  to  in- 
quire," Mr.  Ludlow  went  on,  "  but  it  may  interest 
you  to  know  that  if  Miss  Dorothy  goes  on  the  con- 
cert stage  it  will  mean  quite  a  tidy  sum  of  money 
for  her  —  and  money,  I  am  sure,  will  always  prove 
a  handy  asset  to  have  around.  So,  both  artistically 
and  financially,  it  seems  the  proper  thing  for  her 
to  do." 

"  But  I  have  heard  that  girls  on  the  stage  are 
exposed  to  many  temptations,"  protested  Aunt 
Betty,  who  felt  the  ground  slipping  from  under  her 
arguments.  Realizing,  as  she  did,  that  it  was  Doro- 
thy's wish  that  she  give  the  concert  stage  a  trial, 
she  was  inclined  to  be  lenient. 

"  A  wrong  impression,  madame  —  an  entirely 
wrong  impression,"  said  Mr.  Ludlow,  emphatically. 
"There  are  temptations  in  stage  life,  yes;  but  so 
there  are  in  other  professions,  and  he  or  she  who 
falters  will  find  their  steps  to  be  hard  ones,  no  mat- 
ter who  they  are  or  where  they  be.  Force  of  char- 
acter rules  on  the  stage,  Mrs.  Calvert,  just  as  it 
does  in  every  other  walk  of  life.  Thus  it  is  that 
the  theatrical  profession  shelters  some  of  the  smart- 
est, most  wonderful  women  the  world  has  ever 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  215 

known.  Because  a  few  notoriety  seekers  have 
caused  the  finger  of  scorn  to  be  pointed  at  an  hon- 
orable profession,  just  as  one  dishonest  employe 
can,  and  frequently  does,  cause  a  whole  institution 
to  be  looked  at  with  suspicion,  should  the  dramatic 
profession,  as  a  whole,  be  made  to  suffer?  I  ask 
you  this  in  all  fairness,  madame,  and  await  your 
answer." 

"  Well,  really,  I  hadn't  considered  it  in  that  light," 
said  Aunt  Betty,  slowly,  deliberately.  "  I  believe 
you  are  right,  Mr.  Ludlow,  and  I  thank  you  sin- 
cerely for  changing  my  viewpoint.  Ever  since  I 
saw  that  great  play,  '  The  Music  Master/  with 
David  Warfield  in  the  part  of  Herr  von  Barwig, 
I  have  wondered  if  the  theatrical  profession  was 
wholly  a  bad  one.  Now,  I  think  I  understand." 

"  I  am  glad  it  remained  for  me  to  tell  you,  Mrs. 
Calvert." 

"  And  if  my  niece  sees  fit  to  arrange  with  you 
for  a  metropolitan  appearance,  and  you  feel  that  it 
will  be  a  great  triumph  for  her,  I  shall  certainly  not 
stand  in  the  way." 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  good  auntie ! "  Dorothy  cried, 
throwing  her  arms  about  Mrs.  Calvert's  neck  and 
giving  her  a  resounding  kiss.  "  I  shall  thank  you 
all  my  life  for  those  few  words." 


216  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Mrs.  Calvert,  you  have  made  a  very  sensible 
decision,"  Herr  Deichenberg  remarked  with  no  little 
degree  of  satisfaction.  "  Believe  me,  I  know  vhat 
I  say  iss  true.  Und  now,  if  you  vill  please  allow 
Mr.  Ludlow  to  make  some  necessary  arrangements 
before  he  takes  his  leave,  it  vill  greatly  facilitate 
matters." 

Aunt  Betty  quickly  assented,  and  turning  to 
Dorothy,  Mr.  Ludlow  said : 

"  What  I  wish  is  for  you  to  appear  at  a  prelimi- 
nary concert  in  New  York  City,  at  a  date  yet  to 
be  decided  upon.  You  will  be  under  the  watchful 
eye  of  your  music  master,  and  the  affair  will  be 
given  under  his  auspices.  You  will,  perhaps,  have 
some  prominent  vocalist  to  help  you  fill  in  the  even- 
ing's entertainment.  I  wish  to  know  if  this  will  be 
agreeable  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  the  date  is  not  too  soon,"  the  girl  re- 
plied. 

"  As  to  that,  we  shall  suit  your  pleasure,  so  it 
occurs  before  warm  weather  sets  in." 

"  It  need  not  be  later  than  the  first  of  May." 

"  Then  please  sign,  this  contract.  I  have  drawn 
it  up  with  the  approval  of  Herr  Deichenberg,  but 
before  attaching  your  name,  I  will  ask  you  to  read 
it  and  be  sure  you  thoroughly  understand  it." 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  217 

"  Perhaps  my  lawyers  might  — "  Aunt  Betty 
began. 

Herr  Deichenberg  raised  his  hand  in  dissent. 

"  Madame,  it  iss  unnecessary.  I  am  familiar 
with  every  form  of  contract  und  I  say  to  you  dat 
de  one  offered  your  niece  by  Mr.  Ludlow  is  equita- 
ble and  just,  and  can  only  be  to  her  advantage." 

"  We  will  take  your  word,  of  course,"  replied 
'Aunt  Betty.  "  The  only  reason  I  spoke  is  that 
neither  Dorothy  or  myself  is  well  versed  in  con- 
tracts of  any  sort." 

"  The  very  reason  why  I  prepared  the  contract 
after  suggestions  offered  by  Herr  Deichenberg," 
said  Mr.  Ludlow  with  a  good-natured  smile. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Betty ! "  cried  Dorothy,  as  she  read 
the  document,  "  for  one  appearance  in  New  York, 
I  am  to  receive  one  hundred  dollars  and  my  ex- 
penses both  ways.  I  think  that  is  a  very  liberal 
offer." 

"  Merely  a  pittance,  Miss  Calvert,  beside  what 
you  will  get  if  your  concert  pleases  the  music  lovers 
of  the  metropolis,  who,  as  you  are  no  doubt  aware, 
are  the  most  discriminating  in  the  country." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  I  shall  please  them.  I  shall  try  so 
hard." 

"  You  just  leave  dat  to  me,"  said  Herr  Deichen- 


2i8  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

berg.  "  Any  young  lady  who  played  as  you  did  at 
my  concert,  need  have  no  fear  of  facing  a  metro- 
politan audience." 

"The  plan  is,  Miss  Calvert,"  Mr.  Ludlow  went 
on,  in  a  thoroughly  business-like  tone,  "  if  your 
New  York  concert  proves  a  success,  for  you  to 
sign  contracts  to  appear  next  season  under  my 
management  in  the  principal  cities  of  the  country. 
When  we  know  positively  that  this  is  advisable, 
we  will  discuss  terms,  and  I  assure  you  we  shall 
not  quarrel  over  the  matter  of  a  few  dollars,  more 
or  less." 

"  I'm  sure  we  won't,"  replied  Dorothy. 

Aunt  Betty  found  herself  hoping  for  the  success 
of  the  plan.  All  opposition  to  the  matter  seemed, 
for  the  time,  to  have  slipped  her  mind. 

Mr.  Ludlow  bade  them  good-by  shortly  after, 
and  left  in  company  with  Herr  Deichenberg. 

Dorothy  closed  the  door  softly  behind  them,  then, 
happy  that  her  ambition  was  at  last  to  become  a 
reality,  threw  herself  in  the  arms  of  Aunt  Betty 
and  sobbed : 

"  Oh,  auntie,  auntie,  it  has  come  at  last,  but  it 
won't  —  it  won't  take  me  away  from  you." 

"  We  must  not  be  too  sure  of  that,  my  dear," 
Aunt  Betty  replied,  as  calmly  as  she  could.  Her 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  219 

wildly-beating  heart  cried  out  for  the  love  and 
sympathy  that  she  knew  only  this  girl  could  give 
her.  How  could  she  ever,  ever  bear  to  give  her 
up? 

"  Auntie,  dear,"  Dorothy  said,  straightening  up 
and  wiping  her  eyes  with  quick,  nervous  little  dabs, 
"  if  such  a  thing  as  separation  is  even  suggested, 
I  shall  never  move  a  step  from  old  Bellvieu  — 
never,  never ! " 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  I  cannot  expect  you  to  give  up 
a  great  career  for  me." 

"  What  would  any  sort  of  a  career  be  without 
you?  Nothing  —  absolutely  nothing!  I  wouldn't 
listen  to  it  for  a  moment.  Where  I  go  there  you 
shall  go  also." 

"  But  I  am  getting  too  old  to  travel." 

Aunt  Betty's  protest,  however,  sounded  rather 
feeble. 

"  Nonsense !  "  the  girl  replied.  "  You  were  the 
very  life  of  our  camping  party,  and  I'm  sure  riding 
in  railroad  trains  is  not  half  so  strenuous  as  speed- 
ing forty  miles  an  hour  over  country  roads  in  an 
automobile.  No  objections,  now,  auntie  dear,  un- 
less you  want  me  to  give  up  my  career  before  it  is 
begun." 

"  No,  no,  of  course,  I  — " 


220  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Of  course  you  don't  want  me  to  do  that.  Cer- 
tainly not.  For  that  very  reason,  if  for  no  other, 
you  are  going  to  accompany  me  wherever  I  go, 
which  means  that  you  may  as  well  start  planning 
that  new  spring  dress,  for  we  will  be  traveling  New 
Yorkward  ere  many  weeks  have  passed." 

"  Do  you  think  blue  would  be  becoming,  dear  ?  " 

Dorothy  could  have  laughed  outright  with  de- 
light, when  she  saw  how  quickly  Aunt  Betty  became 
lost  in  contemplation  over  what  she  should  wear 
on  the  trip.  , 

"  Well,  yes,  if  it  is  of  the  proper  shade,  auntie, 
but  you  know  nothing  becomes  you  so  well  as 
black." 

"  Black  it  shall  be,  then  —  black  panama,  with  a 
nice  new  bonnet  to  match." 

"  And  I,  auntie,  dear,  what  shall  /  wear?  How 
are  we  to  afford  all  these  fine  things  when  our 
finances  are  at  a  low  ebb  ?  " 

"  Our  finances  are  in  better  condition  than  they 
were,  dear.  A  letter  a  few  days  since  from  my  law- 
yers, states  that  certain  property  I  have  placed  in 
their  hands  is  rapidly  increasing  in  value,  and  that 
I  shall  be  able  to  realize  from  time  to  time  such 
sums  as  I  may  need." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad !     Strange  you  didn't  tell  me.'* 


MR.  LUDLOW'S  OFFER  221 

"  I'd  forgotten  it.     I  really  believe  I  am  getting 
absent-minded." 

Had  Dorothy  known  the  truth  —  that  though 
the  lawyers  had  agreed  to  advance  certain  sums,  it 
meant  a  mortgage  on  old  Bellvieu,  her  peace  of 
mind  would  have  been  sadly  disturbed. 

But  Aunt  Betty  took  good  care  she  did  not  know 
it  —  self-sacrificing  soul  that  she  was. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
IN  THE  METROPOLIS 

NEW  YORK  ! 

A  magic  word  to  Dorothy  Calvert,  and  as  she 
stepped  from  the  train  in  the  great  Pennsylvania 
railway  station,  curiosity  and  interest  were  ex- 
pressed in  her  glance.  Not  since  her  trip  to  Cali- 
fornia with  Aunt  Betty  and  Ephraim  had  the  girl 
been  in  Gay  Gotham,  which,  to  her,  had  always 
been  a  place  of  great  enchantment. 

The  noise  of  the  trains,  the  clangor  of  trucks, 
as  they  were  whirled  up  and  down  the  station  plat- 
form by  the  baggagemen;  the  noise  of  the  subway 
and  surface  cars,  mingled  with  countless  other 
sounds,  were  sufficient  to  distract  any  girl's  atten- 
tion, and  Dorothy  came  out  of  her  reverie  and 
turned,  only  when  Aunt  Betty  cried  out  from  the 
car  steps : 

"  Dorothy  Calvert,  wherever  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  oh,  I  — " 

"  Are  you  going  to  leave  me  behind  ?  " 

"I  — I  — why,  auntie  — I—" 

222 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  223 

"  One  would  think  you  had  never  been  in  a  great 
city  before.  Wait  for  me!  Remember,  I  am 
going  everywhere  you  go.  You  did  not  bring  me 
this  far  from  Bellvieu  to  leave  me  in  the  lurch, 
young  lady." 

"  Goodness  knows,  I  had  no  idea  of  doing  any- 
thing of  the  sort,  auntie." 

"  Well,  you  just  wait !  I'm  not  as  spry  as  I  used 
to  be." 

Jim  Barlow  carefully  helped  Aunt  Betty  to  the 
platform,  while  Ephraim  followed  with  a  load  of 
suit  cases.  Then  came  Herr  and  Frau  Deichen- 
berg,  each  with  a  little  hand  satchel,  the  professor 
guarding  jealously  his  beloved  violin.  No  heavy 
luggage  for  the  Deichenbergs,  the  Frau  had  told 
Aunt  Betty  on  the  journey  up  from  Baltimore. 

"  Ve  shan't  be  here  for  long ;  de  concert  occurs 
to-morrow  night,  und  ve  shall  go  straight  back 
home  vhen  ve  are  t'rough,"  was  the  way  she  put  it. 

The  Herr  was  attired  in  his  customary  black. 
He  had  maintained  his  usual  phlegmatic  manner  all 
through  the  journey,  and  apparently  had  no  inten- 
tion of  departing  from  it  now.  Having  spent  many 
years  in  New  York  after  his  arrival  in  America, 
the  city's  fascination  for  the  average  mortal  seemed 
to  make  no  appeal  to  him. 


224  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Once  off  the  train,  Jim  began  to  search  diligently 
in  the  crowd  for  a  familiar  face.  For  a  moment 
a  blank  look  expressed  his  disappointment.  Then 
his  features  lighted  up  and  he  waved  his  hand  at 
a  tall,  spectacled  gentleman  who  came  eagerly  for- 
ward to  meet  him. 

"  Jim,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  greeted  this  indi- 
vidual. 

"  And  I  to  see  you,  Dr.  Sterling." 

A  hearty  hand-clasp  followed. 

"Why  it  is  Dr.  Sterling!"  cried  Aunt  Betty, 
adjusting  her  glasses  that  she  might  better  see  him. 
"  How  good  it  seems  to  find  you  here  in  New  York. 
How  did  you  leave  things  up  the  Hudson,  and  espe- 
cially at  Deerhurst  ?  " 

"  Same  as  of  yore,"  he  replied.  "  Hans  and 
Griselda,  faithful  souls,  are  keeping  the  place  in 
spick  and  span  condition."  His  face  lighted  sud- 
denly. "  And  here  is  Miss  Dorothy,  grown  into  a 
tall  young  lady  since  last  I  saw  her." 

"  Don't  accuse  me  of  being  too  tall,  Dr.  Sterling," 
said  Dorothy,  in  a  tone  of  mild  reproof.  "  That  is 
getting  to  be  a  sore  subject  with  me.  I  have  no 
intention  of  being  either  a  toothpick  or  a  bean- 
stalk, though  if  what  my  friends  tell  me  is  true, 
I  am  in  a  fair  way  to  be  either,  or  both." 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  225 

Dr.  Sterling  laughed. 

"  You  mustn't  mind  a  bit  of  a  joke,  you  know. 
You  are  at  an  age  where  nothing  can  stop  your 
growth.  Your  height  seems  to  you  exaggerated 
—  that's  all  —  and  your  friends  merely  perpetuate 
the  belief  with  the  idea  of  teasing  you." 

"  I'll  take  your  word  for  that,  doctor.  And  now, 
let  me  present  my  music  teacher,  Herr  Deichenberg, 
and  Mrs.  Deichenberg,"  Dorothy  then  said. 

The  introductions  were  duly  acknowledged,  after 
which  the  party  went  into  the  station,  and  thence 
to  the  street  beyond. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  stop  ? "  Dr.  Sterling 
wanted  to  know,  as  he  turned  an  inquisitive  glance 
on  Aunt  Betty. 

"  I've  forgotten  the  name  of  the  place,"  replied 
the  mistress  of  Bellvieu,  "  but  Herr  Deichenberg 
can  enlighten  you.  He  wired  ahead  for  the  rooms." 

"  It  iss  de  Arlington,"  the  music  master  vouch- 
safed. "  De  proprietor  iss  a  personal  friend  of 
mine,  und  de  accommodations  vill  be  of  de  very 
best." 

"  Then  I  shall  immediately  change  my  quarters," 
said  the  genial  doctor.  "  I  am  farther  down  town, 
but  as  we  are  to  be  in  the  city  but  a  couple  of  days, 
it  is  well  for  us  to  be  together  as  much  as  possible." 


226  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

This  programme  was  followed  to  the  letter,  and 
before  noon  Dorothy  and  Aunt  Betty  had  washed, 
and  changed  their  attire  for  fresh,  clean  linen  suits, 
after  which  they  announced  themselves  in  readiness 
for  any  events  that  might  be  on  the  programme. 

Dr.  Sterling,  who  had  been  holding  a  conference 
with  Jim,  proposed  a  boat  trip  down  the  bay. 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  delightful,"  Dorothy  said. 
"  How  can  it  be  arranged  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  friend  in  New  York,  a  Mr.  Ronald, 
who  owns  a  very  handsome  private  yacht.  This 
he  has  placed  at  my  disposal  on  all  occasions.  I 
shall  immediately  call  him  up  by  'phone  and  find 
if  the  boat  is  available  for  this  afternoon." 

This  the  doctor  did,  and  returned  a  few  moments 
later  with  the  good  news  that  Mr.  Ronald  vrould 
personally  see  that  the  party  viewed  all  the  sights 
of  the  bay  and  river  front. 

While  at  lunch  one  of  the  surprises  of  the  day 
revealed  itself  in  the  shape  of  Judge  Breckenridge 
and  Molly,  who  walked  in  on  the  astonished  Cal- 
verts  totally  unannounced. 

"  Molly ! " 

"  Dorothy ! " 

These  exclamations  were  followed  by  a  bear- 
like  hug  as  the  girls  flew  into  each  other's  arms. 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  227 

Many  of  the  diners  became  interested  and  stopped 
eating  long  enough  to  watch  the  lingering  embrace 
to  the  end. 

The  Judge  shook  hands  all  around,  then  places 
were  made  for  him  and  Molly  at  the  table  occupied 
by  Aunt  Betty,  Dorothy  and  Jim. 

Dorothy  quickly  won  their  promise  to  go  down 
the  bay  in  the  yacht,  and  lunch  over,  the  party  im- 
mediately made  preparations  to  start. 

Herr  Deichenberg  and  his  wife  were  sure  the 
trip  would  prove  rather  trying  for  them,  as  neither 
was  fond  of  the  water,  so  decided  to  remain  at  the 
hotel  and  receive  Mr.  Ludlow,  who  was  due  at 
four  o'clock. 

Upon  Dorothy's  insisting  that  perhaps  she  had 
better  stay  and  meet  the  manager,  also,  the  Herr 
shook  his  head. 

"  No,  no ;  dat  iss  entirely  unnecessary." 

"  Then  give  him  my  regards,  and  say  that  I  shall 
see  him  to-night  or  in  the  morning,"  cried  the  girl. 

"  I  vill  do  dat.  In  de  meantime  enjoy  yourself. 
Forget  there  iss  such  a  t'ing  as  a  concert.  To- 
morrow night,  vhen  you  stand  before  de  great  audi- 
ence in  de  theater,  iss  time  enough  to  t'ink  of  dat." 

Aunt  Betty  at  first  thought  she,  too,  would  re- 
main behind,  but  after  lunch  she  was  feeling  in 


228  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

such  unusually  good  spirits  that  she  announced  her 
intention  of  goingv  if  only  to  have  an  old-time  chat 
with  the  Judge. 

"Auntie,  you  are  getting  younger  every  day," 
cried  Dorothy,  pleased  that  her  relative  was  so  spry 
at  her  advanced  age. 

"  And  I  intend  to  continue  to  grow  younger  as 
long  as  I  may,  dear.  It  is  a  privilege  not  given 
many  women,  and  I  shall  make  the  most  of  it.  If 
I  have  the  opportunity  I  may  even  set  my  cap  for  a 
beau." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Betty,  how  can  you  say  such  a 
thing!" 

"  '  Such  a  thing,'  as  you  call  it,  would  be  perfectly 
proper.  Would  it  not,  Judge  Breckenridge?  " 

"  Quite  proper,  madame  —  quite  proper,"  re- 
sponded the  judge  gallantly — "in  fact,  judging  by 
the  evidence  of  my  eyes,  I  see  no  other  solution  of 
the  matter." 

"  What  a  gallant  speech,"  laughed  Molly.  "  You 
may  be  a  semi-invalid,  papa,  but  you  will  never, 
never  lose  your  courtly  ways." 

"  An  example  which  all  young  men  should  emu- 
late," said  Aunt  Betty,  looking  pointedly  at  Jim, 
who  grinned  broadly. 

It  was  a  merry  party  that  boarded  the  trim  gaso- 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  229 

line  yacht  Nautilus  at  one  of  the  wharves  an  hour 
later.  Aunt  Betty,  assisted  by  the  Judge  and  Jim, 
was  the  first  aboard.  Doctor  Sterling,  with  Doro- 
thy and  Molly  followed. 

The  owner  of  the  yacht  was  introduced  by  Dr. 
Sterling,  and  when  all  were  comfortably  seated  in 
the  deck  chairs  forward,  Mr.  Ronald  signaled  the 
man  in  the  wheelhouse,  who  in  turn  signaled  the 
engine-room  to  go  ahead. 

"  Ah,  this  is  my  style  of  boating,"  sighed  the 
Judge,  as,  with  a  deep  sigh  of  satisfaction  he 
dropped  into  one  of  the  comfortable  chairs  on  the 
forward  deck.  "  When  a  boy  I  used  to  sail  a  little 
sloop,  but  after  all,  it  is  better  to  have  something 
to  push  you  besides  the  wind." 

The  steamer  whistle  screeched  hoarsely. 

"  We're  off !  "  cried  Dr.  Sterling. 

Though  a  strong  breeze,  in  which  there  was  a 
tinge  of  dampness,  came  in  from  the  ocean  as  the 
yacht  went  spinning  down  the  bay,  no  one  chose  to 
retire  to  the  cabin,  even  Aunt  Betty  protesting  that 
the  fresh  air  was  doing  her  good. 

A  heavy  swell  was  running,  but  the  Nautilus 
weathered  the  waves  in  true  ocean  style,  only  a 
slight  rocking  movement  being  perceptible. 

When  they  were  well  started  down  the  bay,  Mr. 


2jo  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Ronald  came  to  ask  if  they  cared  to  visit  the  Statue 
of  Liberty. 

"  I  think  that's  an  excellent  idea,"  said  Dr.  Ster- 
ling. "Judge  Breckenridge  and  Mrs.  Calvert  can- 
not, of  course,  climb  the  spiral  stairs  leading  up 
into  the  statue,  but  we  younger  people  can,  and  will, 
if  you  say  the  word." 

"Oh,  I  think  it  will  be  jolly,"  cried  Dorothy, 
who  had  seen  the  Statue  of  Liberty  from  the 
Brooklyn  bridge  and  wondered  what  was  inside  it. 

Molly  and  Jim  fell  promptly  in  with  the  plan,  so 
the  yacht  was  moored  to  the  little  island,  after 
which  Dr.  Sterling  guided  the  girls  and  Jim  up  to 
the  dizzy  height  represented  by  the  statue's  hand. 
Quite  a  climb  it  was,  too,  but  one  which  amply 
rewarded  them,  for  they  were  able  to  gaze  out  over 
city  and  bay  to  such  an  advantage  that  they  were 
loath  to  descend. 

Back  to  the  yacht  they  finally  went,  however,  and 
the  Nautilus  again  turned  her  nose  down  the  upper 
bay. 

On  one  side  lay  Brooklyn,  on  the  other  Jersey 
City,  while  about  them  craft  of  all  shapes  and  sizes 
puffed  and  snorted  as  they  performed  their  daily 
tasks. 

On  down  into  the  lower  bay  the  yacht  went  skim- 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  231 

ming,  breasting  the  heavy  swells  of  the  Atlantic, 
and  causing  exclamations  of  delight  from  both 
Molly  and  Dorothy,  neither  of  whom  had  ever  been 
this  far  at  sea. 

Down  between  the  upper  quarantine  and  the 
Staten  Island  shore  they  went  at  a  speed  of  twelve 
knots,  then,  rounding  the  lower  quarantine,  stood 
straight  for  Rockaway  Beach. 

It  was  too  early  in  the  season  for  any  of  the 
resorts  to  be  open,  hence  the  girls  were  unable  to 
view  the  scenes  of  activity  that  make  these  famous 
places  the  mecca  of  the  bathers  in  the  warm  season. 

"  I  imagine  I  should  like  to  spend  a  summer 
here,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  And  perhaps  some  of  these  days  you  will  have 
the  opportunity  —  who  knows  ?  "  remarked  Aunt 
Betty. 

"  Well,  when  she  comes  I  must  be  included  in  the 
party  or  there  will  be  big  trouble,"  Molly  put  in. 

"  Lots  of  trouble  you'd  make  your  best  chum, 
young  lady,"  replied  Aunt  Betty,  chucking  the 
Judge's  daughter  playfully  under  the  chin. 

After  a  run  of  some  twenty  minutes,  the  yacht 
again  turned,  this  time  nosing  its  way  back  along 
the  coast  toward  the  lower  bay. 

"  In  a  few  moments,  I  will  show  you  Brighton 


232  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

and  Manhattan  Beaches,"  said  Dr.  Sterling  — "  also 
the  famous  Coney  Island  of  which  you  have  heard 
so  much." 

"  I  should  dearly  love  to  visit  Coney,"  said 
Dorothy. 

"  I  have  been  there  twice,"  said  Molly,  proudly, 
"  and  it  is  a  veritable  city  of  wonders.  I  have 
never  been  able  to  understand  how  a  brain  can  con- 
ceive all  those  funny  things  which  amuse  you." 

"  Great  brains  are  capable  of  many  things  in 
these  days,"  Jim  said. 

"  Oh,  are  they  now,  my  noble  philosopher  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  Saucy,  they  are !  " 

"  What's  that  stretch  of  water  east  of  us,  witK 
all  the  little  islands  in  it  ? "  asked  Dorothy,  sud- 
denly. 

"  That  is  Jamaica  Bay,"  replied  Mr.  Ronald. 
"  It  lies  across  the  peninsula  from  Rockaway 
Beach." 

"  I  thought  Jamaica  was  in  the  West  Indies,  or 
some  other  forsaken  spot,"  said  Molly. 

"  Come,  come,"  chided  Dr.  Sterling.  "  Remem- 
ber your  geography." 

"  You  certainly  ought  to  know  where  the  ginger 
comes  from,"  said  Jim,  in  the  same  bantering  spirit. 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  do,  if  anybody  asks  you,  Mr. 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  233 

Barlow,"  she  returned,  saucily.  "  But  that's  no 
sign  I  knew  there  was  a  Jamaica  Bay  in  New  York 
State.  My  geography  didn't  teach  me  that." 

"  Of  course  it  did,"  taunted  the  boy,  "  but  you 
did  not  take  the  trouble  to  remember  it." 

Further  discussion  of  this  unimportant  subject 
was  cut  short  by  a  crash  from  the  engine-room  of 
the  yacht,  followed  by  a  hissing  noise  as  of  escap- 
ing steam,  and  the  propeller,  which  was  being 
driven  at  many  thousands  of  revolutions  per  min- 
ute, began  suddenly  to  slow  up. 

A  shriek  from  Aunt  Betty,  drew  Dorothy  quickly 
to  her  side,  while  Mr.  Ronald  cried  out : 

"  Something  has  happened  to  the  engine !  " 

Then  he  made  a  dash  below  decks,  followed  by 
Dr.  Sterling,  and,  a  few  seconds  later,  by  Jim,  who 
saw  in  the  yacht's  misfortune  another  opportunity 
to  satisfy  his  mechanical  curiosity. 

The  boy  reached  the  engine-room  directly  on  the 
heels  of  Mr.  Ronald  and  Dr.  Sterling,  and  saw  the 
engineer  and  his  assistant  flat  on  their  backs  trying 
to  locate  the  trouble. 

"  Something  apparently  broke  inside  her,  sir," 
the  engineer  was  saying,  in  response  to  a  question 
from  Mr.  Ronald.  "  I  can't  say  how  serious  it  is 
till  we  find  it,  sir." 


234  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Then  of  course  you  do  not  know  how  long  we 
shall  be  delayed?" 

"No;  I  couldn't  say,  sir.  Can't  even  promise 
that  we  can  run  in  on  one  pair  of  cylinders,  sir, 
for  they  all  seem  to  be  affected  alike." 

At  this  a  shadow  overspread  the  owner's  face 
and  he  turned  to  Dr.  Sterling. 

"  Sorry,  Doc,"  he  said.  "  What  did  you  tell  me 
about  getting  to  town  before  dark?  " 

"  I  merely  mentioned  the  fact  that  Miss  Calvert 
should  be  early  to  bed,  because  she  appears  at  a 
concert  to-morrow  evening,  and  it  is  necessary  that 
she  feel  as  well  as  possible." 

"  It  is  after  four  now,"  said  Mr.  Ronald,  looking 
at  his  watch,  "  and  I  don't  know  what  to  tell  you 
until  Sharley  —  that's  my  engineer  —  locates  the 
trouble." 

"  Then  perhaps  we  had  better  withhold  f  rotm 
those  on  deck  the  fact  that  there  may  be  an  indefi- 
nite delay,  merely  making  the  general  statement 
that  the  trouble  is  being  rectified  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  Very  well ;  will  you  tell  them,  and  make  my 
excuses  ?  I  shall  want  to  stay  pretty  close  here  till 
this  trouble  is  found." 

"  I'll  tell  them,"  said  the  doctor,  and  motioning 


IN  THE  METROPOLIS  235 

Jim  to  follow  went  on  deck.  So  the  news  which, 
poorly  told,  might  have  brought  consternation  to 
Dorothy  and  her  aunt,  merely  aroused  their  curi- 
osity. Soon  they  were  laughing  and  talking  with 
all  thoughts  of  the  accident  gone  from  their 
minds. 

Meanwhile,  below,  Mr.  Ronald,  Sharley  and  the 
assistant  engineer,  were  going  over  every  inch  of 
the  gasoline  motors,  hoping  to  find  what  had  been 
the  cause  of  their  sudden  refusal  to  do  their  work. 

Screws  were  tightened  and  several  other  minor 
matters  remedied.  Then  Sharley  signaled  the  pilot 
house  that  he  was  going  to  try  her  again.  Having 
tested  his  batteries  with  the  buzzer,  and  adjusted 
the  timer,  he  turned  on  the  gasoline  and  slowly 
opened  the  throttle. 

There  was  no  response. 

Sharley  repeated  the  operation  several  times 
without  getting  the  desired  explosion.  Then  he 
retested  the  batteries  with  the  buzzer  and  adjusted 
the  carburetor,  discovering  that  the  gasoline  had 
not  been  turned  on  at  that  point  —  or,  at  least,  had 
been  turned  off  after  the  trouble  started.  More 
cranking  followed,  but  without  success. 

The  Nautilus  was  now  drifting  in  toward  the 
shore,  and  a  peep  through  a  porthole  told  Sharley 


236  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

that  he  would  be  upon  the  sands  of  Rockaway  if 
something  were  not  done  soon. 

"  Told  you  she  ought  to  have  a  sail  equipment 
for  emergencies,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Ronald. 

"  Yes ;  you  told  me  —  that's  not  your  fault.  The 
question  now  is,  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Nothing  that  I  can  see  but  throw  out  our 
anchor.  Ain't  more  than  twenty  feet  of  water 
here,  and  she's  growing  less  all  the  time." 

"  But  I  can't  throw  out  the  anchor  without  alarm- 
ing the  ladies." 

"  Have  to  alarm  'em,  then,  I  guess.  That's  bet- 
ter than  going  aground  and  paying  somebody  sal- 
vage to  get  you  off,  eh,  Mr.  Ronald  ?  "  and  the  engi- 
neer laughed. 

Mr.  Ronald  admitted  the  force  of  the  statement, 
then  went  on  deck  to  break  the  news  to  his  guests. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   STORM 

MR.  RONALD'S  appearance  on  deck  was  the  signal 
for  a  jubilant  shout  from  Dorothy,  Molly  and  Jim. 

"  Now  we'll  be  off  again  in  a  jiffy!  "  Molly  cried. 
"  I  can  see  it  in  Mr.  Ronald's  face." 

"  Which  only  goes  to  show  that  looks  are  really 
deceiving,"  returned  the  owner  of  the  yacht,  good- 
naturedly. 

"  What ! "  cried  Dorothy,  while  Molly  gave  vent 
to  a  disappointed,  "  Oh !  " 

"  Do  you  mean  that  the  engineer  hasn't  yet  got 
to  the  seat  of  the  trouble?  "  queried  Dr.  Sterling. 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  his  efforts  are  not  meeting 
with  the  success  we  had  hoped  for,  and  as  we  are 
slowly  drifting  in  toward  the  beach,  with  only  a 
few  feet  of  water  under  our  keel,  we  shall  be  forced 
to  drop  anchor,  pending  further  developments  in 
the  engine-room." 

"  That  means  that  the  trouble  is  serious,"  groaned 
Aunt  Betty. 

"  Not  necessarily,"  said  Judge  Breckenridge,  in 
237 


238  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

an  encouraging  tone,  "  but  if  we  run  aground  we 
will  be  '  suah  'nuff '  in  trouble,  as  old  Ephrairo 
would  say." 

"  The  trouble  is  merely  temporary,  I  assure  you," 
Mr.  Ronald  went  on.  "  If  you  will  excuse  me 
again,  I'll  order  the  anchor  dropped.  Then  we  can 
at  least  make  our  minds  easy  as  to  where  we  will 
stay  until  the  trouble  is  located." 

The  others  nodded  their  assent  and  he  hurried 
forward.  A  moment  later,  with  a  rattling  of 
chains,  the  anchor  plunged  into  the  waters  of  the 
bay. 

Mr.  Ronald  then  rejoined  his  guests,  and  in  spite 
of  the  anxiety  that  was  surging  in  Dorothy's  breast, 
she  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion  with  the 
others.  Story  and  jest  rang  out  over  the  water 
as  the  sun  gradually  approached  the  horizon. 

It  was  after  six  when  Sharley  came  on  deck  to 
say  that  the  trouble  was  as  elusive  as  ever. 

"We've  been  over  every  inch  of  her,"  he  said, 
"  and  can't  find  a  thing  the  matter.  Yet,  she  won't 
budge  an  inch.  The  gasoline  supply  is  O.  K.,  and 
the  batteries  are  in  good  shape.  There's  no  trouble 
at  all  about  exploding  the  spark,  but  I  can't  get 
the  engine  to  turn  a  wheel,  sir." 

Mr.  Ronald  cast  an  uneasy  glance  toward  the 


THE  STORM  239 

eastern  sky,  where  a  heavy  bank  of  clouds  was 
appearing  above  the  sky-line.  The  rapidity  with 
which  they  were  approaching  seemed  to  indicate 
that  a  storm  was  brewing.  He  said  nothing  of  this 
to  his  guests,  though,  but  smilingly  remarked  that 
he  would  go  below  again  to  go  over  the  matter  an- 
other time  with  Sharley.  Then  owner  and  engineer 
disappeared  below  decks  together. 

Anxiously  those  on  deck  awaited  some  report 
from  the  engine-room;  but  the  minutes  slipped  by 
and  none  came. 

Finally,  Dorothy  noticed  the  approaching  storm, 
and  gave  vent  to  a  startled  exclamation,  which 
caused  Aunt  Betty  to  jump,  and  Molly  to  grab  her 
-chum  nervously  by  the  arm. 

"  What  is  it?"  Aunt  Betty  wanted  to  know. 

Dorothy  extended  her  finger  toward  the  formida- 
ble looking  bank  of  clouds. 

"  A  storm  is  coming,"  she  replied,  "  and  if  we 
don't  hurry  and  fix  the  engines  we  shall  be  caught 
in  it." 

As  if  in  answer  to  Dorothy's  remark,  Mr.  Ron- 
ald appeared  on  deck  at  this  instant.  His  face  wore 
a  troubled  expression  and  the  hopes  of  the  guests 
fell  as  they  noticed  it. 

"  It's  of  no  use ;  we  can't  6nd  the  trouble,"  he 


240  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

said.  "  Looks  very  like  we  were  in  a  trap  and  des- 
tined to  quite  a  stay." 

The  wind  had  already  commenced  to  blow.  The 
Nautilus  had  swung  around  bow  on  to  the  easf- 
and  was  tugging  viciously  at  her  anchor. 

"  If  some  other  boat  would  only  come  by  and 
pick  us  up ! "  cried  Aunt  Betty.  "  Why,  we  may 
have  to  stay  out  here  all  night." 

"  What  of  it  ?  "  queried  Judge  Breckenridge. 

"  Why,  Dorothy  will  be  in  no  shape  for  the  con- 
cert to-morrow  night  —  that's  what  of  it.  And 
,Herr  and  Frau  Deichenberg  will  be  worried  over 
our  continued  absence." 

"  The  cabin  of  the  yacht  will  afford  comfortable 
sleeping  quarters  for  you  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Ronald. 
"  I  regret  this  occurrence,  but  now  that  we  are  here, 
with  no  prospect  for  getting  away  under  several 
hours,  we  must  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain." 

"  Let  me  suggest  that  we  all  go  inside,"  said  Dr. 
Sterling.  "  The  wind  is  getting  too  cool  for  you, 
Mrs.  Calvert." 

"  I  suppose  that's  an  insinuation  against  my  age," 
returned  the  person  addressed,  with  some  spirit. 
"  But  I'll  forgive  you,  doctor ;  we  had  best  look  the 
facts  in  the  face." 

She  arose  as  she  spoke,  and  taking  Jim's  arm, 


THE  STORM  241 

walked  slowly  toward  the  cabin.  The  others  fol- 
lowed. 

No  sooner  were  they  inside  than  the  storm  de- 
scended with  a  roar.  Sheets  of  water,  wind-driven, 
beat  against  the  windows  of  the  cabin,  and  the  yacht 
rose  on  top  of  great  waves  to  plunge  down  into 
the  trough  of  the  sea  with  a  motion  that  gave  Aunt 
Betty  a  sinking  feeling. 

"  It's  like  going  down  in  an  elevator,"  she  con- 
fided to  Dorothy.  "  I  just  know  I'm  going  to  be 
seasick." 

"  You  will  if  you  think  about  it  every  minute," 
said  Dr.  Sterling.  "  Get  your  mind  on  something 
else  and  you  will  be  all  right." 

"  Easier  said  than  done,  doctor." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Now,  that  reminds  me  of  a 
story,"  and  he  went  on  to  relate  a  certain  incident 
of  his  career  which  took  the  thoughts  of  seasickness 
and  storm  away  from  Aunt  Betty's  mind. 

It  soon  grew  so  dark  it  became  necessary  to 
switch  on  the  electric  lights.  Then,  while  the  yacht 
rolled  and  tossed  on  the  heavy  waves,  Mr.  Ronald 
and  his  guests  entertained  themselves  as  best  they 
could. 

Through  the  windows  a  glare  marked  the  location 
of  the  city,  though  no  objects  were  visible  on  the 


«*2  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

ink-black  surface  of  the  water.  As  Dorothy  looked 
longingly  out  into  the  darkness  she  wondered  what 
Herr  Deichenberg  and  Mr.  Ludlow  would  be  think- 
ing by  this  time. 

Knowing  she  had  gone  out  on  the  yacht,  and  that 
a  storm  had  descended  on  both  bay  and  city,  they 
would  be  worried,  no  doubt,  and  there  was  no 
means  of  communicating  with  them  to  allay  their 
fears  until  the  yacht  was  able  to  pull  up  anchor 
and  steam  into  the  city  by  her  own  motive  power. 
And  this  seemed  unlikely  to  happen  soon,  for  n& 
word  of  encouragement  had  come  from  the  engine- 
.room,  though  Engineer  Sharley  and  his  assistant 
were  still  making  a  diligent  search  for  the  trouble. 

Fortunately  the  larder  of  the  Nautilus  was  well- 
stocked  with  food,  and  Mr.  Ronald,  with  the  help 
of  one  of  the  deck  hands,  was  able  to  serve  a  very 
satisfactory  lunch  to  the  storm-bound,  hungry  guests. 

Steaming  coffee  was  made  on  a  little  electric 
raftge,  and  this,  with  rolls,  canned  salmon,  and 
bread  and  butter,  served  to  satisfy  the  appetites  of 
all. 

"  How  nice  and  cozy  this  would  be,"  said  Molly, 
as  they  were  gathered  about  the  table,  "  if  it  were 
not  storming  so  hard,  and  Dorothy  was  not  worried 
as  to  when  she  is  to  reach  the  city." 


THE  STORM  243 

"  Why,  pshaw !  there's  nothing  to  worry  over," 
Said  Jim.  "  The  storm  won't  last  forever,  and  I'm 
sure  if  the  engines  are  not  fixed  by  morning,  Mr. 
Ronald  will  signal  for  a  tow  to  pull  us  into  the 
city." 

"That  will  be  the  only  thing  to  do,"  said  the 
yachtsman.  "  But  the  trouble  will  be  remedied  be  • 
fore  morning,  I  am  sure." 

At  ten  o'clock  the  storm  had  abated  to  some  ex- 
tent, though  the  rain  was  still  beating  in  sheets 
against  the  cabin  windows.  The  wind,  however, 
seemed  to  have  lost  its  great  velocity,  and  the  yacht 
did  not  toss  as  badly. 

Under  these  comforting  circumstances  the  girls 
and  Aunt  Betty  retired  to  the  staterooms  of  the 
yacht,  where  they  threw  themselves  in  the  bunks 
thoroughly  dressed,  resolved  to  get  what  rest  they 
could. 

In  the  cabin  the  men  smoked  and  told  stories, 
while  Jim  sat  near,  an  interested  listener.  At  mid- 
night the  boy  curled  up  on  a  seat  built  against  the 
side  of  the  cabin  and  went  to  sleep.  Judge  Breck- 
enridge  was  nodding  in  a  big  Morris  chair,  so  Dr. 
Sterling  and  Mr.  Ronald  left  them  and  went  to  the 
engine-room,  where  Sharley  and  his  assistant  were 
still  laboring  faithfully  at  the  machinery. 


244  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  Well,  we've  got  it  located,"  said  the  grimy 
engineer,  smiling  good-naturedly.  "  The  trouble  is 
on  this  end  of  the  propeller  shaft.  A  piece  of  metal 
is  lodged  between  the  cogs,  and  we've  been  unable 
so  far  to  get  it  out.  It's  only  a  question  of  time, 
though.  Bill  is  hammering  away  with  a  cold  chisel 
and  something  is  bound  to  give  'way  soon." 

"  Can  we  run  into  the  city  in  the  storm,  Sharley, 
or  will  it  be  better  to  wait  till  it  clears  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  pretty  misty  out,  and  hard  to  see  the 
lights  of  other  boats,  but  we'll  chance  it  if  you  say 
so,  sir." 

"  I'll  think  it  over.  Let  me  know  when  the  en- 
gine is  fixed  and  we'll  decide  what  is  best  to  do. 
Come,  Sterling;  let's  go  on  deck  for  a  breath  of 
air." 

Donning  heavy  ulsters,  they  were  soon  on  the 
slippery  deck  of  the  yacht,  the  storm  beating  in 
their  faces.  The  man  in  the  wheel  house,  encased 
in  heavy  oilskins,  was  nodding  in  the  shelter  of  his 
little  quarters.  He  started  up  as  Mr.  Ronald  and 
his  friend  came  slipping  along  the  deck. 

"  A  bad  night,  sir,  but  the  storm's  going  down," 
he  remarked,  pleasantly. 

"  The  engines  will  soon  be  fixed,  Donnelly,  and 
if  it's  let  up  sufficiently  we  may  try  to  make  the 


THE  STORM  245 

city  at  once.     Otherwise  we  will  wait  till  daylight." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  all  right,  sir,"  and  the  man  bowed  as 
Mr.  Ronald  and  Dr.  Sterling  passed  on. 

In  the  meantime,  Dorothy  and  Molly  lay  in  their 
bunks,  talking  on  various  subjects,  but  mostly  of 
the  coming  concert.  Dorothy,  of  course,  was  wor- 
ried, and  was  trying  to  borrow  trouble  by  declar- 
ing the  storm  would  keep  up  all  the  following  day, 
and  that  she  might  be  forced  to  miss  the  concert 
altogether  —  an  idea  which  Molly  "  pooh-poohed  " 
in  vigorous  terms. 

"  I'm  surprised  at  you,  Dorothy  Calvert,"  she 
said.  "  You're  not  a  quitter.  Nothing  in  the 
world  will  keep  you  from  being  at  the  theater  to- 
morrow night,  and  you  will  play  as  you  have  never 
played  before.  Difficulties  will  but  serve  to  spur 
you  on  to  greater  deeds." 

"  You're  right,  chum,"  Dorothy  replied.  "  That 
is  a  well-deserved  rebuke  and  I  thank  you  for  it. 
Which  reminds  me  that  my  fears  were  groundless, 
for  the  wind  is  going  down  and  it  does  not  seem  to 
be  raining  as  hard  as  it  was." 

"  Of  course  not,  you  goosey !  These  storms 
rarely  last  more  than  a  few  hours.  The  sun  will  be 
shining  in  the  morning,  and  all  you'll  see  to  remind 
you  of  to-night  'will  be  the  rather  worn  looks  of 


246  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

your  companions.  But  what  is  one  night's  loss  of 
sleep,  anyway?  I  just  know  when  you  were  at 
school  you  lost  many  a  good  night's  sleep  through 
some  prank.  Now,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  telling  tales  out  of  school," 
smiled  Dorothy. 

"  An  evasion  means  an  assent,"  remarked  her 
chum.  "And  the  next  evening  you  were  feeling 
as  well  as  ever  —  just  as  a  nice,  warm  bath  and  a 
rub-down  will  make  you  forget  your  troubles  of 
to-night." 

And  Molly  was  a  true  prophet.  The  storm  went 
down  rapidly  after  midnight,  until  there  was  only 
a  slight  mist  falling,  and  the  wind  came  in  fitful 
little  gusts,  which  lacked  the  force  to  do  damage 
even  of  a  slight  nature. 

After  one  o'clock,  with  the  cheering  intelligence 
that  the  engines  would  soon  be  in  working  order, 
called  to  them  through  the  stateroom  door  by  Dr. 
Sterling,  the  girls  fell  asleep,  to  be  awakened  some 
hours  later  by  the  motion  of  the  boat. 

"  Oh,  look,  Molly ! "  Dorothy  cried,  shaking  her 
chum  out  of  a  sound  sleep.  "  The  yacht  is  under 
way." 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  so  ?  "  was  the  rather  discom- 
forting reply,  as  Molly  sat  up,  rubbing  her  eyes. 


THE  STORM  247 

"  First  thing  we  know  we'll  be  back  at  the  hotel." 

"  We'll  have  to  reach  the  dock  first,  though." 

"  Thanks  for  the  information,"  said  Molly,  as 
she  began  to  arrange  her  hair. 

The  sun  was  streaming  in  through  the  port-holes 
and  the  water  without  was  as  smooth  as  glass. 
The  yacht  was  headed  toward  the  city,  and  mov- 
ing along  at  a  steady  pace,  though  not  at  full  speed. 

The  girls  smoothed  out  their  crumpled  dresses, 
gave  several  other  touches  to  their  attire,  and  after 
a  vigorous  use  of  powder  rags,  taken  from  their 
hand-satchels,  they  aroused  Aunt  Betty  and  to- 
gether went  into  the  cabin,  thence  to  the  deck. 

"  Good  morning !  "  greeted  Judge  Breckenridge, 
who,  seated  near  the  rail  amidships,  was  smoking 
an  early  morning  cigar  in  the  keenest  enjoyment. 

"  It  is  good  morning,  sure  enough !  "  cried  Doro- 
thy, drawing  her  lungs  full  of  the  pure,  sweet  air. 
"  And  I'm  so  glad.  I  hope  we  reach  the  city  soon, 
for  Herr  Deichenberg  and  Mr.  Ludlow  will  be 
worried  to  death  over  my  absence." 

"  In  half  an  hour  we'll  be  at  the  wharf,"  said 
Mr.  Ronald,  who  approached  at  this  moment.  "  I 
trust  you  rested  well  ?  " 

This  remark  was  directed  principally  toward 
Aunt  Betty,  who  replied: 


248  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

"  I  didn't  hear  a  sound  all  night  long.  The  last 
noise  I  heard  was  the  chatter  of  the  two  young 
magpies  who  occupied  the  berths  across  from  me, 
but  no  misfortune,  no  matter  how  dire  or  dreadful, 
could  bridle  their  tongues,  so  that  was  to  be  ex- 
pected." 

"  That  sounds  very  much  like  a  libel  to  me,"  said 
Dorothy,  laughing. 

"  Well,  you're  my  niece,  and  I  can  libel  you  if 
I  wish,"  was  the  spirited  response. 

"  But  Molly  isn't  your  niece,  auntie." 

"  Never  mind ;  she  insists  on  keeping  company 
jUrith  you.  Under  those  circumstances  she  must  ex- 
pect to  take  home  to  herself  most  of  the  things  I 
say  about  you." 

"  I'm  not  worried,"  said  Molly.  "  I  suppose  we 
are  all  you  say  we  are,  and  more,  Mrs.  Calvert." 

"  That's  a  charitable  view  to  take  of  it,"  said 
Dr.  Sterling. 

The  engines  were  working  so  well  that  before 
they  realized  it  the  Nautilus  was  lying  snugly 
moored  to  her  wharf  in  the  North  River. 

Mr.  Ronald's  guests  bade  him  good-by  and  left 
the  boat,  after  making  him  promise  to  be  at  Doro- 
thy's concert  in  the  evening. 

At  the  hotel,  early  as  was  the  hour,  Dorothy 


THE  STORM  249 

found  Herr  Deichenberg  and  Mr.  Ludlow  in  con- 
ference over  her  continued  absence. 

"  My  goodness !  My  goodness !  "  cried  the  music 
master.  "  Would  you  drive  us  crazy,  Miss  Doro- 
thy, that  you  stay  avay  all  night  and  make  us  be- 
lieve you  are  lost  in  the  storm  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  make  you  believe  anything,  Herr 
Deichenberg.  You  took  that  upon  yourself.  And 
perhaps  I  was  lost  in  the  storm,  sir,"  replied  the 
girl,  then  extended  her  hand  to  Mr.  Ludlow. 

"  I  forgive  you,  Miss  Calvert,  and  trust  you  have 
not  so  impaired  your  faculties  that  your  work  will 
fall  below  its  usual  standard  to-night,"  said  the 
manager. 

"  I  have  not,  I  assure  you.  We  were  very  com- 
fortable in  the  berths,  and  put  in  some  good  time 
sleeping  between  midnight  and  morning.  Molly 
will  tell  you  that  we  have  no  reason  for  feeling 
badly." 

"  Indeed,  no,  and  Dorothy  will  be  in  perfect  trim, 
Mr.  Ludlow." 

"  Your  assurance  makes  my  mind  perfectly  easy," 
was  his  reply. 

"  But  vhy  didn't  you  let  us  know  ?  "  Herr  Deich- 
enberg asked  excitedly.  "Vhy?  Vhy?" 

"  Because   the  yacht  was  not  equipped  with  a 


250  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

wireless  apparatus,  I  suppose,"  Jim  Barlow  put  in, 
rather  testily.  "  She  has  done  the  best  she  knew 
how,  sir,  and  that's  all  anyone  can  do." 

"  Truly  spoken,  my  boy,"  replied  the  Herr,  lay- 
ing a  kindly  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  You  must  not 
mind  me ;  I  am  a  little  nervous  —  dat  iss  all." 

"  The  nervousness  will  pass  away  now  the  truant 
has  returned,"  Aunt  Betty  assured  him. 

Frau  Deichenberg,  who  approached  at  that  mo- 
ment, nodded,  smiling: 

"  Ah,  madame,  dat  iss  true.  You  must  not  mind 
Mm.  He  iss  like  dat  vhenever  anyt'ing  goes  wrong. 
But  he  means  nothing  —  nothing !  "  She  extended 
her  hand.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  safely  back." 

Assuring  Mr.  Ludlow  that  she  would  be  on  hand 
in  the  evening  without  fail,  and  ^promising  to  see 
him  during  the  afternoon  if  he  called,  Dorothy 
went  up  to  her  room,  where  a  hot  bath  and  a  nap 
of  several  hours'  duration  put  her  in  excellent  phys- 
ical trim  for  the  ordeal  that  night  —  for  an  ordeal 
she  knew  it  was  to  be  —  an  ordeal  that  would  be 
the  making  or  the  breaking  of  her  career. 


CHAPTER  XV 
DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

Ax  last  the  hour  was  approaching  when  Dorothy 
would  make  her  appearance  before  a  metropolitan 
audience.  As  evening  drew  near  she  felt  a  nerv- 
ous sensation,  mingled  with  a  faint  suspicion  of 
nausea,  and  wondered  at  it.  Upon  the  occasion  of 
her  appearance  in  Baltimore  not  even  a  tremor  of 
excitement  had  possessed  her;  yet,  the  very 
thought  of  appearing  in  the  glare  of  the  footlights 
in  this  great  New  York  theater  gave  her  an  almost 
uncontrollable  desire  to  fly  away  —  anywhere  — 
away  from  the  people  of  this  city  whose  opinions 
seemed  to  mean  so  much  to  the  followers  of  music 
and  the  drama. 

Arriving  at  the  theater  early,  just  as  she  had  on 
the  occasion  of  her  appearance  in  her  home  city, 
Dorothy  again  peeped  through  a  small  hole  in  the 
curtain,  to  find  the  great  gold-and-green  auditorium 
a  perfect  blaze  of  light. 

To  her  right,  in  the  stage  box,  sat  Aunt  Betty, 
Molly,  the  Judge,  Frau  Deichenberg,  Mr.  Ronald 
and  Jim  Barlow  chatting  gayly,  and  awaiting  the 
251 


252  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

time  when  the  curtain  should  rise  for  Dorothy's 
opening  number. 

The  murmur  of  many  voices  reached  the  girl, 
as  she  looked.  It  was  an  audience  of  taste  and 
culture.  Mr.  Ludlow  had  seen  to  that.  His  af- 
fairs were  looked  upon  by  music  lovers  as  distinctly 
out  of  the  ordinary,  hence  the  better  class  of  people 
attended  them  —  even  sought  eagerly  for  seats. 

By  the  time  Herr  Deichenberg  appeared  on  the 
stage  to  flash  the  orchestra  a  signal  for  the  over- 
ture, the  house  was  packed  almost  to  the  doors. 
People  were  even  standing  three  deep  in  the  back, 
apparently  in  the  best  of  humor  and  seeming  not  to 
mind  in  the  least  the  discomforts  attending  "  stand- 
ing room  only." 

Dorothy  sought  her  dressing-room,  a  great  lump 
in  her  throat,  and  taking  her  violin  from  the  case, 
nervously  thumbed  the  strings.  It  was  so  un- 
usual—  this  feeling  of  helplessness  —  the  feeling 
that  she  was  but  an  unimportant  atom  in  this  great 
sea  of  people  who  were  waiting  for  her  to  appear 
that  they  might  subject  her  to  scathing  criti- 
cism. 

Herr  Deichenberg  smiled  in  at  the  door  a 
moment  later. 

"  Und  how  iss  my  little  lady  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,  Herr,  I  have  such  a  strange  sensation.     It 


DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH  253 

seems  as  if  my  heart  is  going  to  stop  beating." 

"  Ah,  ha !  You  t'ink  so,  but  it  iss  not  so,  Miss 
Dorothy.  De  heart  has  changed  its  place  of  resi-j 
dence  —  dat  iss  all.  It  is  now  lodged  in  de  mouth, 
vhere  it  vill  stay  until  you  get  before  de  audience 
und  realize  dat  you  vill  have  to  play.  Den  it  vill 
leave  you." 

"  If  I  could  only  be  sure !  " 

"  Vhat  I  tell  you  iss  true.  I  have  been  there, 
many  iss  de  time.  You  vill  find  dat  de  audience 
vill  be  your  inspiration." 

Shortly  after,  when  the  orchestra  was  in  the 
last  bars  of  the  overture,  the  music  master  hurried 
Dorothy  out  of  her  dressing-room  to  her  place  in 
the  wings.  The  sinking  feeling  grew  more  intense. 
She  could  not  get  her  mind  off  the  ordeal  which 
was  before  her.  If  she  had  only  agreed  not  to 
come,  she  argued  with  herself,  she  might  have 
saved  her  reputation.  But  now  the  merciless  critics 
of  the  metropolis  would  subject  her  to  compari- 
sons with  greater  and  more  famous  artists,  and  she 
would  surely  be  the  loser  thereby.  Strange  she 
had  not  thought  of  that  before ! 

She  was  startled  out  of  her  meditation  by  Herr 
Deichenberg,  who  cried : 

"  Ready,  now,  young  lady!  Look  your  prettiest! 
Valk  out  as  you  did  before,  und  forget  there  iss! 


254  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

an  audience.  Take  your  time  und  vait  till  de  or- 
chestra iss  t'rough  with  de  introduction." 

She  nodded,  her  lower  lip  trembling  visibly. 
Then,  with  a  sudden  shake  of  her  head,  she  forced 
a  smile  and  stepped  out  into  view  of  the  audience! 

And  as  those  staid  old  New  Yorkers  saw  this 
slim,  young  girl  advancing,  violin  in  hand,  toward 
the  footlights,  while  the  great  orchestra  roared 
and  thundered  through  the  introduction  to  Ruben- 
stein's  "  Barcarole,"  they  burst  into  a  round  of  ap- 
plause. And  Dorothy,  surprised  at  the  reception 
thus  accorded  her,  when  she  had  expected  nothing 
but  silence  and  curious  stares,  all  but  stopped  in  the 
center  of  the  stage  and  forgot  what  she  was  doing. 

Then,  realizing  that  the  orchestra  was  rapidly  ap- 
proaching the  place  where  she  was  to  begin  play- 
ing, she  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  bow  and 
smile.  And  just  back  of  the  footlights,  with  the 
faces  of  her  auditors  but  a  blurred  spot  on  her 
vision,  the  girl  put  her  violin  under  her  chin  and 
gently  drew  the  bow  across  the  strings. 

As  the  orchestra  played  a  low  accompaniment, 
there  suddenly  filled  the  air  a  sound  of  deep  melody, 
which  swept  down  the  aisles  and  filled  with  melodi- 
ous sweetness  every  corner  of  the  big  theater.  It 
was  a  melody  such  as  sets  the  heart  beating  —  a 
melody  full  of  the  most  witchingly  sweet  low  notes. 


DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH  255 

Dorothy  swayed  back  and  forth  to  the  rhythm 
of  the  music,  and  the  audience  listened  spellbound. 
To  Aunt  Betty  and  the  other  attentive  auditors  it 
seemed  that  all  the  world  was  music  —  that,  as 
played  by  this  young  girl,  it  was  the  greatest  and 
best  of  all  earthly  things. 

As  she  played  on,  by,  as  it  seemed  to  her,  some 
strange  miracle,  all  her  fears  and  tremblings  van- 
ished. Herr  Deichenberg  had  been  right,  and  now 
her  only  thought  was  for  her  work  —  how  best  to 
do  it  to  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  had  honored 
her  with  their  presence. 

When  it  was  finished  and  she  had  bowed  herself 
off  into  the  first  entrance,  applause  such  as  she 
had  never  heard  before,  thundered  through  the 
building.  Out  she  stepped  and  bowed,  but  still 
the  plaudits  continued,  and  finally,  walking  out, 
she  signified  with  a  nod  of  her  head  her  willing- 
ness to  respond  with  an  encore. 

She  played  a  simple  little  piece  far  removed  from 
the  great  Rubenstein  melody,  and  it  went  straight 
to  the  hearts  of  the  audience,  as  Herr  Deichenberg, 
keen  old  musician  that  he  was  had  intended  that  it 
should.  From  that  moment  Dorothy  Calvert  had 
her  audience  with  her  heart  and  soul. 

As  she  swept  into  the  concluding  bars  of  the 
melody,  the  audience  fairly  rose  to  its  feet  and 


256  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

applauded.  She  took  seven  bows  before  the  cur- 
tain was  allowed  to  descend.  The  first  part  of 
the  entertainment  was  over  and  Dorothy  sought  her 
dressing-room  to  rest,  closing  and  locking  the  door 
so  that  no  one  might  intrude  on  her  privacy. 

There  she  lay,  eyes  half-closed,  breathing  rather 
heavily,  more  from  excitement  than  from  actual 
physical  exertion,  while  the  popular  tenor  whom 
Mr.  Ludlow  had  engaged  to  assist  in  the  concert 
was  singing  a  song  from  "  Lucia."  She  heard  his 
encore  but  faintly  —  enough,  however,  to  recognize 
one  of  the  solos  from  a  popular  comic  opera,  then 
someone  rapped  on  her  door  and  bade  her  be 
ready  for  her  second  turn. 

Words  fail  to  describe  the  reception  she  met  as 
she  played  Schubert's  Sonata,  followed  by  the 
march  from  "  Lenore,"  the  latter  seeming  to  strike 
the  chord  of  popular  approval  in  a  very  forcible 
manner. 

She  bowed  herself  off  again,  after  taking  ten 
curtain  calls,  to  give  the  tenor  another  chance. 
Again  she  rested  in  her  dressing-room,  and  again 
ventured  forth  for  the  last,  and  to  her  most  diffi- 
cult, part  of  the  entertainment. 

Two  of  the  classics  she  played,  then,  upon  in- 
isistent  calls  from  the  audience  for  more,  nodded 


DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH  257 

to  the  orchestra  and  struck  into  her  old  medley  of 
southern  airs.  As  the  plaintive  notes  of  "  The  Old 
Folks  At  Home "  echoed  and  reechoed  through 
the  theater,  Dorothy  watched  the  effect  on  her 
audience,  and  saw  that  many  handkerchiefs  were 
used  as  the  sadder  strains  were  played.  "  Old 
Black  Joe "  produced  much  the  same  effect,  and 
"  Dixie "  aroused  them  to  cheers  which  increased 
as  the  girl  played  "  The  Star  Bangled  Banner  "  and, 
finally,  "  Home,  Sweet  Home." 

Again  and  again  the  curtain  descended,  only  to 
rise  again,  as  the  girl  bowed  her  acknowledgments 
to  the  great  audience  that  had  received  her  with 
such  marked  expressions  of  approval.  Then,  to  her 
dressing-room  she  went,  to  find  that  Aunt  Betty  and 
her  friends  had  reached  the  stage  through  an  en- 
trance back  of  their  box,  and  were  awaiting  her. 

"  Oh,  auntie,  auntie ! "  was  all  she  could  say,  as 
she  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  her  aged  relative 
and  sobbed  through  sheer  joy. 

"  My  dear,  it  is  the  triumph  of  your  life.  I  am 
indeed  proud  to  call  you  my  own." 

"  And  she  wasn't  one  tiny  bit  scared,"  said  Molly. 

"  Shows  you  don't  know  what  you're  talking 
about,"  Dorothy  replied,  with  some  spirit.  "  Herr 
Deichenberg  had  all  he  could  do  to  induce  me  to 


258  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

leave  my  dressing-room.  Let  the  announcement 
sound  as  absurd  as  it  may,  I  was  literally  scared 
to  death." 

"  If  you  can  play  like  that  when  you're  literally 
scared  to  death,"  said  Molly,  "  I  wish  someone 
would  scare  me." 

"  Here's  Mr.  Ludlow,"  said  Jim.  "  Let's  hear 
what  he  has  to  say." 

"  Mr.  Ludlow  is  about  the  happiest  man  in  New 
York  to-night,"  said  the  manager,  "  realizing,  as  he 
does,  that  he  has  discovered,  with  the  aid  of  Herr 
Deichenberg,  a  young  lady  who  is  destined  to  set 
the  whole  country  afire  with  her  playing.  Miss 
Calvert,  I  congratulate  you  most  heartily.  It  was 
the  finest  thing  of  its  kind  I  have  ever  heard  in  my 
long  theatrical  experience." 

Dorothy  choked  up  and  could  not  speak  as  she 
took  his  hand. 

"  Don't  try  to  thank  me,"  he  went  on,  observing 
her  embarrassment.  "  It  is  I  who  should  thank 
you.  And  now,  I  know  you  are  anxious  to  return 
to  your  hotel.  I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning  be- 
fore you  leave  for  home  and  discuss  with  you  our 
future  plans." 

It  was  not  until  the  early  hours  of  the  morning 
that  Dorothy  Calvert  wooed  sleep  successfully,  and 
when  she  did,  she  dreamed  of  violins,  music  mas- 


DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH  259 

ters,  stages  and  scenery  —  all  inextricably  mixed. 

She  arose  early,  however,  as  they  were  to  catch 
a  train  for  Baltimore  during  the  forenoon.  Jim 
Barlow  came  into  the  room  occupied  by  Dorothy 
and  Aunt  Betty  as  soon  as  they  had  dressed,  bring- 
ing the  morning  papers.  The  music  critics  were 
almost  unanimous  in  pronouncing  the  young  violin- 
ist a  player  of  exceptional  merit,  and  one  destined 
to  become  a  great  force  in  the  musical  world. 

Dorothy  hastened  to  show  the  papers  to  Aunt 
Betty  and  Molly,  who,  of  course,  were  greatly  re- 
joiced over  her  success. 

Mr.  Ludlow  called  as  he  had  promised,  and  when 
he  took  his  departure  Dorothy  had  put  her  signa- 
ture to  a  contract,  calling  for  a  forty  weeks'  tour 
of  the  United  States  and  Canada,  starting  the  last 
week  in  September.  And  the  contract  called  for  a 
salary  of  $200  per  week  and  expenses.  Those  in- 
terested in  our  heroine's  welfare  may  learn  as  to 
the  outcome  in  the  next  volume  named  "  Dorothy's 
Tour." 

Dorothy  could  hardly  believe  her  good  fortune; 
nor  could  Aunt  Betty,  whose  resources  were  so  low 
that  the  only  thing  in  prospect  was  a  mortgage  on 
her  beloved  Bellvieu. 

The  fact  that  Aunt  Betty  was  in  such  sore  finan- 
cial straits  became  known  by  accident  to  Dorothy 


260  DOROTHY'S  TRIUMPH 

after  they  had  returned  home.  But  once  the  girl 
was  familiar  with  conditions,  she  showed  what  a 
loyal  niece  she  could  be  by  depositing  in  one  of 
the  Baltimore  banks  the  money  she  had  received 
for  her  concert,  subject  to  Aunt  Betty's  order. 
Then,  in  company  with  Aunt  Betty,  she  called  upon 
the  lawyers  who  had  the  Calvert  estate  in  charge, 
and  by  explaining  her  prospects  for  the  coming  sea- 
son, and  exhibiting  her  contract  with  Mr.  Ludlow, 
arranged  for  such  funds  as  she  and  Aunt  Betty 
might  need  between  then  and  the  end  of  September. 

Thus  was  old  Bellvieu  saved  to  those  who  loved 
her  most. 

It  was  a  happy  summer  to  Dorothy,  though  she 
kept  up  her  work  under  the  direction  of  Herr  Deich- 
enberg,  gradually  growing  to  be  a  more  polished 
artist. 

As  the  fall  drew  near  she  became  very  eager, 
particularly  when  Mr.  Ludlow  wrote  that  he  had 
provided  a  private  car  that  Aunt  Betty  might  go 
with  her  upon  her  long  journey  over  the  continent. 

So  here,  with  her  triumph  achieved,  and  greater 
triumphs  and  trials  as  well  before  her,  we  will 
leave  Dorothy  prepared  to  take  up  her  adventurous 
tour. 

THE   END 


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